Rocky Mountain Legacy. Lois Richer

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Rocky Mountain Legacy - Lois  Richer

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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.”

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