Green Mountain Collection 1 Page 8

  As her brother had been one of Caleb Guthrie’s closest friends, Hannah couldn’t take issue with Hunter professing to know him well enough to say what he would’ve wanted for her. And Hunter wasn’t wrong. Caleb would be furious with her for continuing to hole up in the house his grandmother had left to him and he had left to her. It was far too big for one person, but keeping it up gave her something to do when she wasn’t working—and it kept her connected to Caleb and the life they had shared. After college, when he’d been commissioned into the army, they’d used the house as a retreat whenever he was on leave or between deployments to war zones. Some of their happiest memories had been made here.

  Her parents had once gently suggested she might sell the house he’d loved, that his grandmother had loved, but that wasn’t an option she was willing to consider.

  So she stayed, and she worked, and if every day was exactly the same as the one before, well, that was okay.

  “Hannah?”

  “I’m fine. I promise. I don’t want you to worry about me.”

  “Can’t help that.”

  “We need to find you a nice young lady to settle down with. You’re not getting any younger.”

  “Shut up,” he said, laughing. “Don’t forget I’m only three minutes older than you, old hag.”

  “As if I could ever forget,” she said with a smile full of sincerity that she knew he’d understand. He got her better than almost anyone ever had—except for Caleb, of course. He’d gotten her best of all, and that kind of connection didn’t come along every day.

  “Need me to do anything while I’m here?” Before she could reply, he was on his way to her porch. “You’re low on firewood. I’ll bring some in for you.”

  She knew there was no point in reminding him she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She’d lost that battle years ago and knew better now than to tell him not to bother. “Thank you.”

  He stocked up her woodpile next to the fireplace in the sitting room, set a fire in the hearth and then salted the ice on the back porch as well as the stairs leading down to the yard. When he came back in for the last time, his cheeks were red from the cold.

  Hannah stood up to hug him. “Thank you.”

  He kissed her forehead. “For what?”

  “You know.”

  “Call me if you need anything?”

  She walked him to the door. “I will. And don’t sweat the website. Have some faith in Will. He’d never do anything that wasn’t in the store’s best interest. You know that.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Sometimes change can be good, you know?”

  “You need to practice what you preach, sis,” he said with the charming grin that had made him one of the two most popular boys in their high school class. Caleb had been the other.

  Hannah grimaced at the comeback she should’ve anticipated. “I walked right into that, didn’t I?”

  He gave her another kiss on the cheek. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Hannah watched him hustle down the front walk that he’d also salted and get into the silver Lincoln Navigator SUV he’d bought a few months ago. After he drove away, she closed the door and locked it.

  Tucked in for another cold, late-winter night, Hannah lit the fire her brother had laid in the hearth and curled up on the sofa with Homer to watch the flames. When Caleb was alive, they’d spent many a night together right on this sofa watching the fire, eating dinner, making love … Some of the best moments of their marriage had transpired in this very spot.

  She’d taken a lot of comfort from those memories in the years since Caleb stepped on a land mine in Iraq and was killed instantly. Lately, however, the memories had begun to fade, despite her best efforts to cling to them with everything she had. She’d never admit to anyone, even Hunter, who’d feel compelled to do something about it for her, that the loneliness had been particularly difficult to bear during the long winter they’d just endured.

  Still, she wasn’t ready to make any changes. Not yet. Maybe not ever, but definitely not now.

  CHAPTER 5

  Well, don’t you look prettier than a pat of butter meltin’ on a short stack.

  —The gospel according to Elmer Stillman

  Will appeared at Cameron’s door promptly at seven o’clock. With his coat unzipped, she could see that he’d worn a brown wool sweater over dark jeans with heavy mud-season-approved boots. He smelled of fresh air, soap and cologne so subtle she wasn’t sure it was cologne. No matter what it was, she wanted to get closer for a better sniff of the intriguing scent. His hair was damp and his face freshly shaven. That he’d gone to some trouble to prepare for their dinner pleased her.

  “Looks nice on you,” he said of the Icelandic sweater she’d chosen to wear with faded jeans and her new boots.

  “I’ll have a whole new wardrobe by the time I leave.”

  “At least your trip won’t be a total loss.”

  “True. Thank you for the sweater. It’s gorgeous, and I love the pajamas, too.”

  “Glad you like them.”

  “The mask really took the sting out of the bruises.”

  “Good to know it works. Sometimes I wonder about the claims these products make.”

  “You have to stop bringing me presents.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because.”

  “Well, that clears it right up.”

  Even though it was pointless, tossing her cell phone in her purse was pure habit. She grabbed her wireless hotspot, too, hoping to find a reliable signal somewhere in this town that she could tap into for work.

  “Do you have a coat with actual sleeves?”

  “No, just the vest.”

  “It’s eighteen degrees out. You’re going to be cold in that.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll just be in and out of the car, right?”

  He stepped back to give her room to close and lock her door. “Yes, but around here you have to be prepared for trouble, like the kind you found last night. If I hadn’t come along when I did, you might’ve been in for a long, cold night out there with no heat, no phone and a coat with no sleeves. It’s still winter here, and it will be for a while yet. You gotta be thinking worst-case scenario.”

  “As much as it pains me to tell you you’re right, you’re right. If it works out that I’m going to be here awhile longer, I’ll invest in some sleeves.”

  “Good plan.”

  They stepped into air that was, indeed, considerably colder than it had been earlier.

  Will held the passenger door to his dark blue truck and waited for her to get settled before he went around to the driver’s side and immediately started the engine—and the heat.

  “Are you in the mood for anything in particular?”

  Cameron’s entire face heated with embarrassment as a flood of inappropriate replies filled her brain.

  “Food,” he said, which only added to her embarrassment because he’d guessed that her mind had gone directly to dirty.

  “Anything is fine. I’ll let you decide. There is one thing I’d love to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Go rescue my boots from the mud.”

  “I got them on my way in this morning and dropped them at the dry cleaner. She said she can’t promise they’ll look as good as they did before the mud, but she’ll do what she can. Meant to tell you that earlier.”

  Staggered, she couldn’t begin to think of what to say to that. His thoughtfulness was truly overwhelming and unexpected. “You … Oh. Thanks. That was really nice of you.”

  He shrugged off her thanks. “I felt bad that they got ruined. You seemed upset about it.”

  “I love those boots—and the car. I got them both right before I left the city, and neither of them survived the trip, which is a metaphor for my luck lately. It’s nice of you to try to save them.”

  “It was nothing. So how about pizza? We’ve got a place in town that makes wood-fired pies that are to die for.” He pa
used, glanced at her and then at the windshield. “What am I thinking? You have world-class pizza in the city that probably puts ours to shame.”

  “Wood-fired pizza actually sounds really good. I’m sure it’s amazing.”

  “I like it.”

  “Then I’m sure I will, too. It’s just …”

  “What?”

  “I feel kind of weird being seen with my face looking like this. People are talking about me and Fred, and … It’s weird. I feel like everyone is staring at me and pointing. Reminds me of when I had chicken pox in high school and had red spots on my face for a month.”

  “Do you like dogs?”

  She looked over at him, surprised by the question that had nothing to do with what they’d been talking about. “I love dogs.”

  “We’ll get the pizza to go.”

  “To go where?”

  “My place.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is that okay?”

  Cameron’s heart began to beat faster, and her mouth was suddenly dry. “Um, sure. That’s fine.”

  “Now what do you like on your pizza?”

  Half an hour later, Cameron held the pizza on her lap as Will turned the truck off the road where her car had met up with Fred and onto a rutted dirt road. Remembering her Texas Chainsaw Massacre fears from the night before, she tried to keep the pizza box still as the truck dipped into the potholes on the road.

  “Sorry about the bumpy ride. Happens this time every year when the snow starts to melt.”

  Cameron tightened her teeth to keep them from clanking together. “No problem.” As the road got darker and bumpier, her anxiety began to spike. Being out here in the middle of nowhere alone with a man she’d met yesterday, when no one else knew where she was, went against everything she believed in as a safety-first city girl. “You don’t own a chain saw do you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. Why?”

  “No reason.” She tightened her grip on the pizza box. What’s your plan, hotshot? Throw hot cheese at him and run for your life?

  “You’ve got one hell of an imagination, you know that?” he asked, chuckling.

  “A girl can’t be too safety conscious.”

  “If and when I get a girl alone in the woods, my first thought isn’t about chopping her up with a chain saw.”

  “That’s comforting. Thank you.” Once again, Cameron felt warm all over in his presence, and that couldn’t be blamed solely on the piping hot pie. She refused to consider what he might do when he got a girl alone in the woods, as she was now a girl alone in the woods with him and tingling with curiosity.

  “You’re perfectly safe with me. I promise.”

  She knew he meant physically safe, but that wasn’t the kind of safety she was suddenly concerned about. At the moment, she was far more concerned about his intensely magnetic appeal and how she’d manage to keep her mind on business while alone with him in the wilderness.

  “How can you stand living so far from civilization?”

  “It’s not that far. Only about five miles.”

  “Don’t you get bored?”

  “Never. There’s always something to do.”

  “Like what?”

  “The dogs and I take long hikes on the trails. I like to fly-fish in the river. Snowshoeing, snowmobiling, skiing, snow-boarding. The fun never ends.”

  “So you’re very outdoorsy.”

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “I’m sort of indoorsy.”

  “No. Really?”

  “I don’t like to be cold.”

  “And yet you come to Vermont in March with a coat that has no sleeves.”

  “I’ve already conceded that point to you.”

  He drove the truck around a bend in the road and into a clearing where the headlights revealed a log cabin nestled among a grove of evergreens.

  “Oh, Will, it’s beautiful.” Cameron had never seen a more picturesque location for a home.

  “Thanks. You can’t get this downtown anywhere.” He shut off the truck. “Stay there. I’ll come get you.”

  In the thirty seconds it took him to come around to the passenger side of the truck, Cameron had just enough time to give herself a sound talking-to about what was riding on this evening. The very survival of her company was at stake, and it would do her well to remember that.

  He opened the door, took the pizza and offered her his arm. “There’s some ice on the way in so you might want to hang on.”

  A smattering of snowflakes floated around them, sticking to her eyelashes as she got out of the truck and took his proffered arm.

  “It wasn’t supposed to snow until much later,” he said, casting a glance at a sky filled with puffy clouds.

  “I hadn’t heard we were supposed to get snow.”

  “They said six to eight inches, but you never know how much we’ll actually get.”

  “You say six to eight inches like it’s no big deal. That would be a major event in the city.”

  “Just another winter day in Vermont.”

  Cameron curled her hand through the crook of his elbow, encountering muscles that made her want to explore far beyond the bicep that flexed against her fingers as they walked toward his front door. Moonbeams sneaking through the clouds made the icy pathway glisten and sparkle.

  “I feel like Dorothy on the yellow brick road.”

  “Click your heels together, and you might wake up in the city.”

  “Oh thank God I didn’t have to explain that one to you.”

  “I’m not a complete bumpkin.” He helped her onto the porch. “Watch out for the pups when we open the door. They’re extremely friendly—almost too much so.”

  “What’re their names?”

  “Trevor and Tanner. Ready?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Hey, boys,” he said when he opened the door. “This is Cameron. Be nice.”

  Sure enough, the two dogs circled around their legs in a frenzy of excitement.

  Will held the pizza aloft and carried it straight to the kitchen in the back of the cozy house, with the dogs hot on his heels.

  “This is wonderful, Will.” Cameron took a look around at the overstuffed sofas gathered around a stone fireplace. A red plaid throw blanket was tossed over the back of one sofa, and a down comforter hung over the other one.

  He returned to the living room, shooed the dogs outside and lit the fire. “It’s not much—this combined kitchen-living room, a bedroom and a bathroom, but I love it.”

  “I can see why. It’s comfy and cozy.”

  He gave her an odd look that had her wondering if she’d said the wrong thing about his home. “I’m glad you like it. Drink? I’ve got beer, wine, soda, water.”

  “What kind of beer?”

  “Sam Adams light.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “Coming right up.” He opened two bottles and put them on the counter and then went to let the dogs back in. “Come have a seat. It’s safer to eat up here where they can’t get to the pizza.”

  “They’re so cute.” Cameron bent to pet and kiss both dogs, who responded with wet, sloppy kisses for her.

  “They’re holy terrors, but I love them. George is their mother.”

  “Wait … George is a girl?”

  “What can I say?” he asked with a sheepish grin. “I told you my dad was nuts over the Beatles.”

  Laughing, Cameron said, “I liked your dad. He seemed very sweet. I also appreciated what he said about sustaining the business into the future. It sounds like he’s really concerned about making sure you’re well positioned going forward.”

  Will dished up the pizza on plain white stoneware plates and used paper towels for napkins. “He is. I know it weighs on him that the business might not survive into the future, but I don’t feel like we’ve got anything to worry about. We’re selling something people will always want. Like you said at the meeting, it’s about home and hearth and comfort and health. A lot of what we make here in
Vermont can’t be found anywhere else.” He shrugged. “I have faith in that.”

  “This pizza made in Vermont is amazing.” They’d discovered a mutual affection for chicken and artichoke toppings. “Some of the best I’ve ever had.”

  “You don’t have to say that,” he said with a grin.

  “I don’t toss around compliments unless I mean them.”

  He studied her over his beer bottle, and Cameron had to fight the urge to squirm. “So no hard sell on how we need the website to tell the rest of the world how special Vermont is?”

  “I’m not very good at the hard sell,” Cameron said, frowning. “It’s one of my failings as a businessperson. Lucy is after me all the time to go for the jugular, but I figure people know what they need—and what they don’t need—for their own businesses. I don’t believe in shoving technology down people’s throats. They either want it or they don’t.”

  “You’re better at it than you think. I went into that meeting this morning thinking ‘no way’ and came out thinking ‘maybe.’”

  Cameron ventured a look at him and found him watching for her reaction. Her gaze met his and held for a long, breathless moment. Stick to business, she reminded herself. Being attracted to this man was a recipe for disaster. Nothing could come of it, so why venture down that bumpy road?

  “Tell me how you’d go about it,” Will said, snapping her out of her internal monologue.

  “The website?”

  He nodded and took a swig of his beer.

  “I was thinking about that this afternoon. I’d start with two primary components—the story of the family behind the store, beginning with your grandfather if he’s willing to share his story.”

  “He loves to talk about the store and the old days, so you’d have a willing participant in him. That’s one component. What’s the other?”

  “Vermont Made—the thing that makes you special.” She’d meant to say the thing that makes the store and the state special, but the words came out before she could edit herself. Cameron cleared her throat and tamped down the buzz of nerves he caused by just sitting across the narrow counter and enjoying a pizza with her. “Once we complete those two components, we expand into other areas, such as Hannah’s jewelry, Colton’s maple syrup, Landon’s furniture and Lucas’s Christmas trees.”