Rocky Mountain Legacy

Something about Katie’s quick response bothered him, but Cade wasn’t going to speculate. He needed to get back to the ranch. But when Mrs. Woodward’s thin form shuddered and another cough rattled her tiny figure, he put his own plans aside.

“I’ll be happy to drive you home, ma’am. My car’s just across the street.”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll call a cab.” She wheezed out the words, her handkerchief muffling something he didn’t quite catch.

“It’s not a problem. Please, allow me.” Cade held out his arm, surprised by the weakness of her grip when she rose. The old lady must be sicker than she looked. “I could bring the car around to the front door if it’s too difficult for you to walk.”

“I’m fine. Sara, where’s my coat? Oh, good. Now you come here on the other side where I can hold on to you. All of a sudden I’ve gone a bit wobbly.”

Sara obeyed immediately, casting him an apologetic look behind her grandmother’s back.

Cade told himself to mind his own business when it seemed Winifred fussed needlessly. To her credit, Sara kept softly reassuring her as they crossed the street to his car. Winifred insisted on sitting in the back. Alone.

“I can spread out then,” she husked, her voice significantly worse than it had been moments earlier. She closed her eyes. “I’ll rest a few moments. I’m a bit tired. I gave Vivian the day off, so I’ll need Sara to help me to bed. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind waiting to drive her back here, Cade. It would be so kind of you.”

“No.” Sara glanced at him. “It’s not necessary, Grandmother.”

“No worries.” Cade held open her door, waited until Sara was seated. As he closed the door, he noted Winifred’s sparkling eyes and the funny smile lifting her lips. When she saw him watching, she quickly shut her eyes.

He got in the driver’s seat, curiosity rampant.

“If you turn right at the next corner, we’ll go that way. Winnie lives in Cherry Creek.” Sara glanced over one shoulder as if she worried about disturbing her grandmother.

Cherry Creek was the “old money” side of town, filled with posh houses and beautiful landscapes. Cade drove toward it silently, content to watch the exchanges between the two.

Her affectionate care of her grandmother was admirable, but Cade didn’t think this was the real Sara. She was hiding her true feelings. Personally, he far preferred the honest, open woman with whom he’d shared croissants at the coffee shop to this dutiful person who slavishly agreed with every demand her grandmother made. But he kept silent as Sara handed the old woman out of the car and ushered her into the house.

“It’s nice of you to offer, but I’ll stay here,” she said five minutes later when she returned. They were alone and the real Sara was back.

“You want me to disobey her edict that I drive you back to the store?”

“Yes. I want to make sure Granny goes right to bed.”

“Okay. What time is good for tomorrow?” He saw she’d forgotten.

“Tomor—Oh, lunch.” Sara frowned. “When I agreed to help out in the store, I told Katie I’d take a noon lunch hour. Does that work for you?” She tried to step backward and lost her balance.

“Perfect.” Cade steadied her with a grin. “But in case you change shoes between now and then, I better make sure I know exactly who I’m meeting. How tall are you—without the stilts?” He enjoyed the flush of color dotting her cheekbones.

“Never mind,” was all she said, making it obvious she had height issues.

“Ah. What other secrets are you hiding? A glass eye? Wooden leg?”

Sara lifted one eyebrow. “I’ll never tell.”

“That’s an invitation I can’t resist.” Cade pulled open his car door. “Tomorrow, twelve noon at Cartier’s. Bring your ideas.”

“I should probably warn you, some of my ideas have been called a little, um, off the wall.” Sara tilted her head to one side, studying his reaction.

A wayward ringlet danced in the breeze, then settled against her cheek in a gentle caress. Cade swallowed.

“It’s the off-the-wall ideas that usually turn out best, Sara Woodward,” he said softly so the old woman leaning out the window above them wouldn’t hear. “Don’t you know that yet?”

“I know. I wasn’t sure you did.” She grinned. “Cade Porter, this might be fun.”

He got into the car, his knees as weak as if he just climbed off his horse after a four-day trail ride. “I believe it will be.”

He drove back to the ranch slowly, savoring the memory of Sara’s smile, a picture that stuck with him long after he should have been immersed in the mundane duties of his day.

But later that night, staring up at the stars, Cade knew daydreaming about a woman like Sara Woodward was pointless. He’d lost his chance for love and family the day Marnie died. That’s when he’d known that God’s will for him didn’t include his cherished dream of a wife and family of his own.

So Cade would ignore his emotional draw to Sara Woodward. He’d concentrate on throwing Karen the best wedding he could. He’d continue to hope and pray his sister would choose to live at the ranch or at least nearby. Most of all, he’d accept that his future was to be a solitary one. He had to. He’d learned his lesson too well.

When God made up His mind, He didn’t change it.

Chapter Three

“You’re spending a lot of time in front of the mirror this morning, sis. Any special reason?”

“If you had to cart those musty old wedding catalogs out of the storeroom, you’d be checking yourself for dust, too.” Sara avoided Katie’s quizzical gaze. “I’m not sure why you chose me for that crummy job, but I sure got filthy. I’m glad you forgot you’d left this suit from the cleaners here. I needed a change.”

“You look great in it.”

“Thanks. I worked up an appetite, too. I can hardly wait for lunch.”

“Hmm.” Katie turned away, checked the clock. “It’s early, but you might as well go now, while it’s quiet. Who knows what the afternoon will bring?”

“As long as it’s not more dust.” She paused, chose her words carefully. “I’m meeting someone for lunch, so I probably won’t be back early.”

Sara had expected her sister to start asking questions. Yet Katie seemed oddly uninterested in anything except the computer in front of her.

“Fine.”

“Okay, then, see you later.”

“Uh-huh.” Katie didn’t even glance at her. That was odd.

Sara stepped through the door and lifted her face, reveling in the sun’s warmth. Even L.A. weather couldn’t match the startling clarity of an October morning in Denver. Crisp leaves hung in shimmering burned umber against the cerulean sky. Tiny gusts of wind danced several fallen ones across the sidewalk in front of her. They crackled when she stepped on them.

God’s in His heaven, all’s right with the world.

Adam Woodward, Sara’s grandfather, had penned Robert Browning’s famous poem in his diary many times in the last months of his life. In her senior year of high school, when Sara had discovered the leather-bound volume, she’d read it. There she’d felt more kinship with a man she’d never met than she’d ever known with her family.

She’d begged Winnie to provide other journals and poured over them, too, identifying with her grandfather’s yearning to leave Europe and the family pottery business to make his own mark in America. The porcelain doll faces Winnie kept in a special glass case proved Grandpa Adam’s talent. They also whetted Sara’s creative itch.

Her grandfather’s faith was the one thing Sara couldn’t share. She’d never felt the close bond with God that her grandfather wrote about, never felt accepted or approved of by God. Never felt she fit into the image the minister described. Her family’s easy faith made Sara uncomfortable in church, as if she didn’t measure up. As if she didn’t have the right to be there, to pretend she belonged where she so clearly didn’t.

Years later not a lot had changed in her faith journey.

Sara quashed an inner voice that asked her why and instead concentrated on the beautiful day.

The nonlethal shoes Sara borrowed from Abby Franklin, Woodwards’ chief jeweler, made the two-block walk to Cartier’s fly past. Sara wouldn’t admit her light heart had a thing to do with the fact that she would see Cade Porter in a few minutes. Of course not. He was a client, a very nice one, but only a client. But she couldn’t dislodge a tiny tremor of anticipation quaking in her midsection.

Until reality hit.

“Mother?” Sara flopped against the entrance column in a rush of disbelief. Her parents were in Italy. That was why she’d had to come home to help out.

“Hello, darling!” Fiona Woodward enveloped Sara in a cloud of expensive perfume. “It’s wonderful to see you again.” After a moment she drew away. “Love that suit.”

“Thanks.” Sara knew from experience how easily her mother could evade questions. “What are you doing here, Mom? I thought you were—”

“In Italy. We were.” Fiona preened a little, flashing an anniversary ring Sara had never seen before. “Your father and I flew home this morning, a few days early so we could help with the big society wedding on Saturday. We decided to stop for lunch before going to the store. Are you home for a while?”

A quick scan of the restaurant showed Sara that Cade had not yet arrived. Given her mother’s insatiable curiosity about every detail of her life, Sara considered that a definite blessing.

“Honey?” Her mother twisted to survey the area. “Are you meeting someone?”

There was no point prevaricating. Her mother would find out. She always did. Then the questions would be nonstop.

“I am meeting a friend for lunch.” Sara opened her eyes wide and smiled innocently. “But I want to hear all about your trip.”

“Meaning you’ll be in town for a few days?” Her mother’s eyes sparkled. “How lovely. We’ll have time to talk. I must run now, though. Your father went to snag a cab.”

Grandma Winnie!

“Mom, there’s something you should—”

“No time now, darling. Later. After work.” With a quick buss cheek to cheek, Fiona rushed away, high heels tapping against the concrete.

Sara raised her hand to call her back, but her mother closed the door on a cab and it was too late to say anything to prepare them for Winnie’s illness. Well, maybe it was better if Katie did it. They’d listen to her.

Good thing Cade wasn’t here yet. No telling how long her mother would have stayed if she’d known about him. Why hadn’t she refused to help him? Getting involved in his sister’s wedding would only give the family more leverage. Now her parents were back, maybe she could return to L.A., although she’d go without having done any of the special-effects work she’d hoped to begin.

A hand brushed her arm.

“Hello.” Cade’s blue eyes sparkled in the sunshine. “Been waiting long?”

“Actually I just arrived.”

“Bad morning?” His hand rested against her waist as he escorted her to the maître d’s desk.

Sara pretended nonchalance while her heart leaped at the contact.

“My mother was here.”

“I’m sorry I missed her.”

I’m not.

“She and my father have been in Italy, celebrating their anniversary. I had no idea they were coming back today. I don’t think anyone else does, either.” In fact, judging by Katie’s plan to clear out storerooms, Sara was certain her parents were supposed to be gone for at least another week.

Fiona mentioned a big society wedding, but no one had told Sara. She ignored the tiny twinge of hurt she felt at being left out. How silly to feel hurt. She wasn’t a real employee at Woodwards. She didn’t want to be.

“Your parents came home because of your grandmother?”

“I don’t think they know about her yet. I thought the family was keeping it a secret so my parents could enjoy their well-deserved vacation.”

“Maybe someone decided it was better if they knew the truth.”

“I guess.” But no one had told her that, either, which bugged Sara.

They were seated at a window table overlooking Cartier’s delightful garden. Outside, golden sheaves of mature grasses waved in the breeze. A few flowers, unscathed from last night’s frost, still bloomed.

“I haven’t been here before. Thanks for asking me.” Sara accepted from the waiter the heavy white card with the day’s menu on it. “I’ll look, but after those buttery croissants yesterday, I’m on salad for a while.”

“Aw, come on. You can’t expect me to enjoy my meal while you’re nibbling rabbit food.” Cade’s white teeth flashed.

“I guess soup would be okay.” With those blue eyes staring, Sara wasn’t sure she’d be able to swallow a thing.

“The kind of soup should make a difference.” Cade grinned.

“Why?” She couldn’t quite interpret his smug tone.

“I was told mushroom is your favorite.” He lifted the card from her hands and handed it, with his own, to the waiter. Then he ordered for both of them. “I think you’ll enjoy this meal, Sara.”

“Will I?”

The waiter brought their soup and set it down while she fumed. Cade Porter was a human bulldozer. Just like her family. Sara itched to point out his peremptory attitude, but that wasn’t the way one treated a client.

Cade must have caught on.

“That wasn’t very bright of me. I’m sorry, Sara. Karen would bawl me out for ordering for her without even asking. I apologize. Should I call the waiter back?”

“Never mind.”

“Thank you. Shall I say grace?”

She nodded, waited until he’d finished. The word charming had obviously been created to describe Cade Porter. He waited for her to pick up her spoon.

That’s when his words sank in.

“Who told you mushroom soup is my favorite?”

“Your sister.”

“Katie.” Sara closed her eyes as she smothered a groan. “When?”

“I phoned you this morning to confirm. You were out, so I spoke to her. I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t have a problem with the food here. She clarified things.” He frowned at her inelegant sniff.

“Oh, I’m sure she did,” Sara grated. No wonder her sister had given her the dirtiest job in the building, “found” a fresh outfit and almost pushed her out the door. “What else did Katie tell you?”

“Does it matter? Why don’t you taste the soup?”

She’d lost her appetite, but that wasn’t his fault. Cade couldn’t know, would have no idea of the lengths her family would go to keep her at Woodwards. But Katie’s questions about Cade now made sense. Her sister had manipulated her hoping she’d get busy with Cade’s wedding and stick around.

“I’ll send it back.”

“No, please. It’s fine.” Sara swallowed her frustration, picked up her spoon and tasted the soup. “Delicious.”

“I know. This place has the best food you’ll find in town.” Cade made no attempt to smother his satisfaction. “You can’t deny that.”

“No, I can’t. I apologize for my bad humor.” His steady scrutiny made her nervous, so she concentrated on eating.

Silence stretched long and tense. Finally Cade pressed back in his chair and sighed.

“You would have preferred if I hadn’t spoken about you to Katie.” His frown turned into a quizzical ruffle. “I get that, okay?”

“Great.” Her spirit groaned. Her parents were back in town. By now Katie had probably told them all about this meeting and they were all hatching another scheme.

“I promise I won’t do it again.”

“Thanks. I appreciate your discretion.”

“I can be very discreet,” Cade assured her. But his eyes wouldn’t release hers and a frown now marred the smooth perfection of his forehead. “Only—”

“Yes?”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

She had to explain. Otherwise he’d get tricked into their manipulations and maybe expect more—Sara shoved a mass of unruly ringlets behind her ear and dived in.

“Cade, I understand that you love your sister.”

“As, I’m sure, you love your family.” He said it casually, with the assurance of someone completely confident in his family’s love.

“I do love them. Very much. But—” she waited until the salads were served and they were alone again “—my family is a pain.”

It sounded horrible, but it was the truth.

Cade laughed.

“All families are at some time or another, I suppose.” A small smile played around his firm lips. “It’s the nature of the beast.”

Sara’s stomach clenched. She looked through the window, bending her head so the ringlets swung forward, offering him no opportunity to read her expression.

“It’s a little more than that in my case,” she said quietly. “My family believes my move to Los Angeles to pursue my career is a terrible mistake. They’ve tried, over and over, to get me to give it up, to stick with Weddings by Woodwards. They even try to change my ideas. I think they feel I’ve somehow diminished their work because I chose to leave, to pursue something else.”

“I see.”

He didn’t, but he would soon.

“The other Woodwards, my brothers Reese and Donovan, and my sister, Katie, all are a part of the company. So are my parents and, of course, my grandmother. If she’d had more than one son, he’d be part of it, too. And be happy to be there.”

“So you’re the odd man out.”

She nodded, grateful he understood.

“That must make it very difficult for you, Sara.”

“I manage.” The empathy in his voice caught her attention. She tried to read his expression, but instead her attention snagged on the way his dark hair curled, ever so slightly, into his neck. Not long, but not really short, either. It suited him perfectly.

For half a second Sara wondered how it would feel to sift her fingers through those curls. She captured the errant thought by eating some salad and reminding herself she was here to plan a wedding, not to get sidetracked by a compassionate cowboy.

Maybe she’d said enough, maybe Cade would understand without further explanations of the ways her family would try to get her to stay.

As they shared their meal, dessert and coffee, Sara kept the discussion centered on the wedding. It was clear Cade had thought about it overnight because he made decisions that enabled Sara to check off several items on the long list of plans to be made, and add more after she’d paged through Karen’s album.

“Well, that was productive.” He grinned. “I never expected to get so much done over lunch. We should do this again.”

Her heart wanted to agree, but her head reminded her that she was staying at her parents’ house. Now they were back in town, she’d need to spend time with them. Besides, there was no way Sara could have lunch with him again without the family knowing and thinking something was happening between them.

Which it wasn’t. Cade was nice, good-looking and comfortable to be around. But he was a client. Period.

“I’d like to see those pictures of outdoor weddings you talked about, Sara. I have an idea.”

“Care to share?”

“Not yet.” He shook his head. “It’s still in the germination stage. I’m not certain it’s viable. I’ll do some checking on that this afternoon.”

“Your ranch must be a well-oiled machine,” she said, laying her napkin beside her plate. “You’re lucky to be able to leave when you need to.”

“I have very good hands and a foreman who knows the stock almost as well as I.” He checked his watch. “But I should be getting back. If my predictions are accurate, I will have a mare foaling tonight.”

“Isn’t that out of season?”

“It happens. Have you ever seen a brand new colt, Sara?”

She shook her head.

“You’ll have to come out to the ranch, then. I’m kind of glad it’s happened just now because your nephews will—”

“Cade! What did you think of my soup?” A tall, thin man with graying sideburns and wrapped in a pristine white apron clapped a hand on Cade’s shoulder.

“Fantastic, Leon. As usual. This is Sara Woodward. She thought it was delicious, too. Sara, this is Chef Leon. He and his wife, Aimée, own Cartier’s.”

“My pleasure.” Leon shook her hand gravely, but his eyes twinkled. “Don’t hold my hand too long, my dear Sara. Aimée will make me scrub pots if she sees us.”

Sara drew her hand away quickly, laughing at his silliness. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chef. The whole meal was delicious.”

“Sara tried to steal my sorbet. I gobbled it down too fast.” Cade winked at her. “Any seconds?”

“One per customer,” Leon said. “Even our friends must abide by Aimée’s rules.”

“I thought I’d find you here, Leon.” A petite woman with a cloud of silver hair linked her arm through her husband’s. “Cade, you are a bad influence. First my husband buys a horse which he cannot ride and now he tells me you talked him into going fishing on Sunday after church, our busiest time. I thought you were my friend.”

“I am, Aimée.” Cade rose, hugged her then sat down again. “Meet Sara.”

“Hello. You have lovely hair, Sara. Mine is stick straight.”

“Ah, my dear Aimée. You have other assets.” Leon planted a light kiss on her cheek, his eyes glowing with love.

“I don’t know what. I’m as plain as a pikestaff and I can’t cook a thing.” Aimée smiled, her face flushed with pleasure.

Leon slid his arm around her waist. “I didn’t fall in love with your cooking, sweetheart.”

Sara swallowed hard, trying to dissolve the lump in her throat at the look the two exchanged. This was love, the kind of love that accepted the other person, warts and all. For a moment her heart bulged with envy for the other woman.

“It’s a wonder you two get anything done with all this romantic stuff.” Cade pretended to wince at Leon’s cuff to his shoulder. “Is your birthday party still on, Aimée?”

“That’s what Leo says, although I think it’s wrong to close the restaurant for my fortieth birthday. I don’t want to celebrate being forty!”

“We’ll celebrate each year, darling,” Leon told her, brushing her chin with his fingertip. “Every day with you is a gift from God. Now I must go before the kitchen falls apart.” He strode across the room and through the swinging doors.

“Will you come to my party, Sara?”

“Oh.” Sara blinked, surprised by the invitation. “It’s very kind of you, but I’m—”

“Sara works for Woodwards. She probably has to check if the evening is free. But I’ll bring her if she can come.” Cade eased over the moment with smooth aplomb. “I have your gift all picked out, Aimée.”

“As long as it isn’t a horse to go with Leon’s, I’ll love it. I am not a horse person. But I have a soft spot for a certain rancher.” Aimée hugged him, smiled at Sara and excused herself to speak to another customer.

“They seem like newlyweds.” Sara studied the tiny woman. “Have they been married very long?”

“About twelve years, I guess.” Cade swallowed the last of his coffee.

“Have they any children?” Sara wondered how anyone could run a place like this, with its extended hours, and manage children, as well.

“Aimée can’t have children.” Cade’s voice dropped as he shifted slightly forward, ensuring no one could overhear. “She had a very bad brush with cancer and—” He shrugged. “They both come from big families with lots of kids, so it’s been rough. When Leon bought this place, they seemed to find their niches. She’s the most perfect hostess.”

Sara watched Aimée kneel down to speak to a little girl who was having lunch. Aimée’s tender smile transformed her face and the child responded.

“Leon doesn’t mind not being a father?” she asked as Aimée rose, stroked the girl’s brown head then fished in her pocket for a treat.

Cade touched her hand, drawing her attention.

“Leon minds like crazy, Sara.” He met her stare with a level look. “He used to work for my dad. Every year during foaling, all he could talk about was what he’d do when he became a daddy. But Leon didn’t marry Aimée for children. He married her because he loves her, has since the day she ran into his precious car in high school.”

The freedom of such love made Sara want to cry. Leon didn’t think Aimée needed changing. He didn’t want to make her into something else. He just loved her.

“They’re very lucky,” she whispered, her throat tight.

“It’s not luck.” Cade held her gaze with his own. “Leon believes that God knows what He’s doing, that there is a reason he is not a parent. And he’s learned to be content with that, to trust God.”

“I guess that’s one way to come to peace with his situation.” Sara tried to break the visual connection between them but couldn’t.

“That’s not it.” Cade frowned. “Leon has faith that there’s a plan at work in this world and that plan is bigger than one man and one woman’s wishes. He’s relinquishing his own wants in favor of what God decides. It’s trust.”

“If you say so.” Sara tore her gaze from his, fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth.

“You don’t believe in God?”

His question pierced any pretense she might have mustered and went straight to the heart of the matter. But Sara was beginning to realize that Cade Porter was like that. He didn’t play games, didn’t wheedle and trick. He was honest and straightforward.

“Do you believe in God, Sara?”

And unrelenting.

“Oh, I think He’s out there. Somewhere.”

“But?”

“I don’t think our personal issues matter much to God. I think He expects us to use our brains and manage on our own.”

“Why do you think that?”

She couldn’t answer. Not without revealing her own misfit status. If God cared so much, if He cared the way she’d been told He did, why couldn’t she get in touch with Him? Why did she feel always on the outside of the faith circle, just as she did in her own family circle? Why did it always seem God shut out Sara Woodward?

She straightened. “I need to leave.”

“Okay. I’ll give you a ride back.” He rose, held her chair then guided her to the front door.

Cade’s immediate, nonchalant response shocked her, and truthfully, dismayed her. Which was ridiculous. Sara didn’t want to debate God’s love with Cade, so why should she feel so hurt that he didn’t bother to question her on the subject?

“I had a reason for asking you here and for introducing you to my friends,” he said as he helped her into his car. “I’d like to ask Leon and Aimée to cater Karen’s wedding reception, whatever we decide it should be. Leon will love it. Karen worked for him once. After that lunch, I don’t think you have any questions about his food.”

“None.” Sara waited until he was driving toward Woodwards. “You’re already up to the reception, huh? You’re really getting into wedding-planning mode.” She giggled at his grimace. “If you keep this up, Grandma Winnie will want to hire you.”

“And don’t think I wouldn’t be very good at my job.” He pulled into a parking spot across from the store before turning to face her, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he grinned. “After you teach me the rest of it, that is.”

“You, among the ‘froufrou’ of Woodwards?” She tipped her head to one side. “I can’t quite imagine your fluffing the gowns.”

Cade snorted.

“Ha! Not likely. First thing I’d do as your new employee is renovate that foyer. Get some serious man stuff in there.”

Sara chuckled at the mental vision of Cade and her grandmother battling it out. But when he brushed his knuckles against the tip of her nose, the laughter died away. His blue eyes grew serious.

“We are not finished with our discussion about God, Sara,” he warned softly. “It’s simply been postponed for another time.”

Cade was out of the car before she could respond. But Sara had already made up her mind. She wasn’t going to debate God with him. In fact, she wasn’t going to think about God at all.

A little voice inside her head laughed hilariously.

If she found success with that plan, maybe she could manage to stop thinking how handsome Cade Porter was and how being back in Denver wasn’t turning out half as bad as she’d expected.