Rocky Mountain Valentine (12 page)

“Yeah, everything’s okay. Your mom and I’ve been busy getting the nursery ready. Must be the nesting instinct kicking in. Poor Alex can’t believe how much stuff it takes to get ready for a baby.”

Adam laughed again. “Tell him he’s got nothing to complain about. Your sister and I just bought sixty sheets...”

“Sixty-four,” Lisa yelled over the sound of water spilling into the stainless-steel tub.

“Correction, sixty-four.” He took the cordless phone into the laundry room and handed it to Lisa. “Why don’t you talk, and I’ll do this?”

He could only imagine the suspicion that would result from Lisa and Katarina’s conversation. His family would think he’d absolutely lost his mind, making games out of doing the laundry. And he’d never hear the end of Lisa getting him to accomplish in one afternoon what they had nagged him to do for two months. He had to agree; it was nothing short of a miracle.

While Lisa visited with her sister, she continued to sort bedding into rooms and silently assign each of them a stack to carry up the stairs. How she managed to keep everything straight was a mystery. Next she ripped open the packages of curtains and motioned for him to bring her the ironing board, iron and a spray bottle. Before he returned, she and her sister had finished talking.

He emerged from his house with the ironing equipment. “Where do you want these?”

“Since we’re going to hang them upstairs, we may as well work up there. Before we start on that, why don’t I fix us a sandwich while you take care of the animals? It’s almost nine.”

Adam leaned the board against the wall and met her next to the refrigerator. She turned to set the mayonnaise on the counter and he pulled her into his arms. “You made today a lot more fun than work, Lisa. You can’t imagine how I’ve dreaded doing this.”

She put her hands around his neck. “Then why didn’t you let your mom and sisters take it over?”

“If you saw their frilly bedrooms, you’d understand. And—” he shrugged “—I wanted to do it myself, but I couldn’t have done any of it without your help. You have a terrific eye for this sort of thing.”

“I was an art major, Adam. Photography and journalism were minors, but there’s a lot more money in them right now.” Her smile invited him to end the conversation. “Besides,” she whispered, “interior decorating is only fun when your taste matches that of the customer.”

“Let’s test your theory.” He closed his eyes and lowered his lips to hers. Adam struggled to keep his feelings for the drifter from going any deeper, but that, too, was quickly getting out of hand. She felt perfect in his embrace. She made the mundane an adventure, and as she herself admitted, their tastes were perfectly matched. What more could a man ask for?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

L
ISA GLANCED AT
Adam, then quickly diverted her gaze. Sleep had been next to impossible after working all evening with Adam and sharing another of his memory-erasing kisses. This morning, she had to stick to business. Falling in love did not fit into her plan. And falling for Adam—well...she simply couldn’t overlook how painful leaving would be.

“So,” she said, looking from the lodge to the barn then on to a building beyond the corrals, “you’ve been spending a lot of time out here. What do you do besides feeding the livestock?”

Adam picked up a stick and threw it. Toby took off across the snow-fluffed pasture. “Work in my shop, refurbishing furniture. You like antiques?”

She nodded. “Have you restored all of the items in the lodge yourself?”

“Most of them. Mom loves garage sales, and I like returning pieces to their original beauty. I’m not much for this trend of keeping them in a state of disrepair in order to retain the piece’s value. Care to see my latest project?”

“Sure.” She followed him to the log building next to the barn. He swung open the oversize door, turned on the lights and a loud fan buzzed. The distinct odor of chemicals lingered, though not overwhelmingly so.

The room was neat and orderly, just like the rest of Adam’s world. Workbenches and shelves lined the walls and tools were meticulously arranged.

Lisa couldn’t help but wonder if Adam kept every aspect of his life in such impeccable order. She followed him across the room, past a variety of power tools. Buckets and coffee cans held miscellaneous brushes and steel wool. She spun around, examining the area. “I must admit, I’ve never seen anyone quite so organized.”

“Scary, huh?” He chuckled. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I like things to move smoothly. I have to keep the sanding and wood tools as far from the finishing area as I can so the room stays dustless. The fan helps with that and removing fumes.”

Lisa noticed the odor was nearly gone. “This looks pretty professional. Are you doing it just to furnish the lodge or is it another business venture?”

“Haven’t decided yet. We have more furniture than we can ever use. You wouldn’t believe what all Mom brings home. It’s so bad that my sisters, your sisters and even Meg are dragging things home now.”

Lisa grinned. “I know. Things and people.”

“I didn’t mean you, and if...”

Lisa laughed and moved right on to the next question, leading Adam to hand her a mask and take her step-by-step through the refinishing process. He spread chemicals over the painted wood surface and let it set while he took her into the next room and closed the door behind them. “This is where I apply the finish, so the door has to stay closed.” Before them stood a clawfoot oak double-pedestal dining room table. “That way, when I apply the varnish there are no little specks to sand out—well, fewer at least.”

“This is beautiful.” She stepped forward and examined it closely. Lisa reached for it, stopping herself just before she touched it.

“It’s dry. Go ahead,” he said.

She ran her hand over the satin finish, feeling tiny ridges where the oak grain enhanced the richness of the piece.

“Grandpa’s parents brought this with them all the way from Virginia in the late 1800s. I decided it was about time it had a face-lift.”

Lisa couldn’t keep from looking up at Adam—to the modest, matter-of-fact, nonassuming way he viewed all of this. He was restoring history, devoting his life to the heritage his forefathers had passed down. He valued family and honor more than anyone she’d ever met. She backed her way to the door and returned to the other room.

“You okay?” Adam’s hand touched hers and Lisa nodded.

“What’s next?” She moved immediately to the fancy two-drawer dresser and pretended to study it.

The entire drawer front was covered with a pale pink slime. Adam put on gloves and started scraping the muck into a plastic bucket with a flat broad blade tool. “We need to get down through all these layers to the bare wood.”

“I can’t believe you see hope for this. No offense, but it looks awful.” She ran her finger over a blister in the dresser top.

Adam poured solution over the dresser and spread it with the paintbrush. “Give it a week. You won’t believe it’s the same piece,” he said.

Adam had cleaned away the slime, which left only bits of color trapped in the grain and the grooves of the carved design on the front of the drawer. He dabbed a bit more solution on those spots then moved back to the dresser top and zipped away the paint.

Lisa moved closer to examine the damage. “Now what do you do with this?” She ran her fingers over the large split in the veneer.

“It just needs a little tender loving care.” He took a piece of fine steel wool, dipped it into a small bowl of solution and cleaned away the excess residue, then pulled a large syringe from the cabinet and popped the protective cover off. “I use this livestock syringe to inject wood glue under the veneer.” Going all directions, he squeezed the goo into the opening, then picked up a flat board from a pile of scraps. “We cover the wood with a piece of wax paper in case any glue oozes out...clamp the wood over the bubble and it should take care of the problem. You’ll never even notice a
scar.”

Lisa looked at the piece as if it had been under the care of a skilled surgeon’s hand. “Huh.” She wondered if Adam always looked at a piece as if it were a patient waiting for analysis.

“And now, we’re going to get rid of all this extra crud that has gathered in the crevices.” He moved back to the drawer. After clearing the first layers of paint from the deep grooves with a pointed trowel, he took out a dentist’s tool and carefully dug in the corners of the finely carved cornices, dabbing extra solution on where excess paint had collected. Like a caterpillar hungrily munching back and forth across the width of a leaf, Adam carefully dug, then dabbed and cleaned some more, until the deep mahogany color of the wood hadn’t a trace of pink enamel on it.

“Where did a finance major learn to refinish furniture?”

“Grandpa was always fixing something, and I loved watching. The first time he gave me a nightstand to refinish, I thought it was a lost cause. Ever since then, I’ve loved the entire process of restoration. And like the dining room table, I love seeing the results and knowing that someone will be enjoying the same pieces that others have enjoyed for decades. It disturbs me to see the waste—like old buildings left to rot and decay against the harsh elements.”

Lisa could see the passion in his eyes. It wasn’t just this ranch that meant so much to him, it was all of it—the history as well as his heritage. This land was as much a part of Adam MacIntyre as those irresistible brown eyes or his sun-streaked hair. Separating the two would prove catastrophic to both.

Adam spent the remainder of the afternoon giving Lisa the grand tour of the ranch. Toby lumbered along beside them. He’d given Lisa a choice of horseback or snowshoes, and to his surprise, she’d chosen the latter. “You’re a natural,” Adam said as she passed him by.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Must be the patience of the instructor. Either that, or he’s still feeling guilty.”

Adam laughed. “Not a chance.” He was living dangerously, letting his guard down with her. It was more than the guilt, and he knew it now. He picked up a handful of snow, formed it into a ball and threw it toward the ponderosa pines. Toby shot across the meadow after it and they both watched in silence.

Minutes later Adam said, “I enjoyed today.”

“I did, too. Thank you.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I can see why you love it here.”

Could she really understand that this land was as vital to his life as the blood in his veins? “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep hold of Whispering Pines.”

“Once we get this article out there, you’ll have no problem finding customers. Now you have to promise to bring me out again sometime to get pictures.”

He stopped next to her. “I didn’t think you believed in promises.”

“Slip of the tongue.”

He leaned close. “I do promise to bring you out again and again. It’s about time you realize, Lisa, that not everyone breaks their promises. I’m a man of my word.” His gaze dropped to her lips. Fear glimmered in her eyes. Lisa draped her arms across the top rail of the corrals and rested her chin on her hands. “Could I go along while you do chores this evening?”

“Don’t you ever slow down?”

Lisa tilted her head to look him. “Nothing to slow down for.”

“Ever stop to think you might find something worth slowing down for if you looked for it?”

She was silent. Adam stood next to her and tried to imagine what she was seeing. She didn’t respond. “It took hitting rock bottom to figure out I wasn’t where I needed to be,” he said gently.

“Well, I’ve already been there, and I survived.”

Adam waited, hoping she’d continue. “What happened to that boyfriend you had last year?”

The wind whispered through the forest.

“He took a hike,” she finally admitted.

“Painful, huh?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking, it wasn’t. Men like him are a dime a dozen.” Her entire face turned pink, confirming she was genuinely embarrassed by her jibe. “I didn’t mean all men are a dime a dozen.” Her gloved hands flew to her face. “Oh,” she groaned. “Me and my big mouth. Adam, I meant nothing personal by that. And I don’t have...I mean, I haven’t had another boyfriend since Dale. I just meant...”

She was totally flustered, and Adam found her embarrassment almost charming, other than the fact that she was miserable.

“You know,” she retorted, “if you weren’t such a cad, you would break in here anytime now.”

Adam cocked his head to one side. “Kind of difficult to follow a statement like that, being a cad and all.”

Her blush spread. “I’m never saying another word.”

He smiled. “Promises, promises.”

Lisa picked up a handful of snow from the fence post and tossed it at him. “He was the scum of the earth. Being a cad is a compliment compared to him.”

“Great. Now you’re actually comparing me to the scum of the earth. Save me here. What did the man do that was so terrible?”

Lisa shook her head. “I don’t talk about it, to anyone. But all joking aside—he’s nowhere in the same league as you.”

“All due respect, Lisa, you don’t open a door like that and expect a man not to want a few details. You’ve got the wheels-a-turning, and I don’t like the ideas I’m generating.” He wanted to think she trusted him enough to clarify her feelings. And he didn’t even want to think what could have possibly caused her enough pain to make such a statement about the entire male gender.

She squeezed her eyes closed and took a deep breath.

“Would you rather I ask your sisters?”

Lisa shook her head. “They don’t know any of it.”

“You’ve gone through this alone? You haven’t told anyone?” Adam took a deep breath and felt the crisp, cold air burn his sinuses.

Again she shook her head. She removed her gloves and frantically wiped tears away. “Why did you have to bring this up?” Lisa pulled her gloves back on and pushed past him.

Adam raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders. “All I wanted to know is if you’re seeing anyone. You’re the one who said that all men are jerks.”

She nearly fell as she turned around. “I never said that.”

“You may as well have. And you still haven’t answered my question. You come here and think you’re the only one who can do the asking?” She didn’t respond. “You’re not the only person on earth who’s been hurt, you know.”