rental rate in exchange for committing to a three-year contract. But look where it had landed them now. Member Gideon Edlow, who’d give anything to unseat her as manager of the Co-op, would gleefully cry, “I told you so.” Being booted out of the position would mean losing the apartment above the gallery and being forced out of town before she’d had a chance to verify her grandmother’s story.
She couldn’t allow that to happen.
“Even if relocation isn’t an option, you don’t have anything to worry about.” Grady tugged at his loosened tie, and she couldn’t help but wonder how he’d looked in the full regalia at that morning’s nuptials. “This is to be an unobtrusive, word-of-mouth and online operation. We have a good-size customer base of hunters who have been asking for this type of service for years. Word will get around without fanfare.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s what I’m afraid of, Mr. Hunter. Word getting around.”
“Grady, remember?” Twinkling eyes held her gaze a bit too long. “There’s no cause for worry.”
Easy enough for him to say. She’d taken a huge risk coming to Hunter Ridge in pursuit of the truth of her grandmother’s tale and in accepting the nomination to run for town council on behalf of the artist community.
“Everything will be fine,” he concluded. “Trust me.”
Trust a Hunter? Like her great-great-grandfather had? Like she’d trusted her ex-husband to stick around after Tessa’s birth? “I guess we don’t have a choice, do we? That is, unless you’re willing to relocate?”
Startled brows raised, then his eyes warmed as if charmed by her impertinence. “Not a chance, Sunshine. But if it would put your mind at rest, why don’t you come out to the Hideaway this week and take a look at the architectural drawings. I think you’ll be satisfied with what you see.”
He was inviting her to Hunter’s Hideaway?
It wasn’t likely that he’d spread the blueprints out on a picnic table under the trees or on the porch, was it? Surely she’d be welcomed beyond the public areas and into the more private ones?
A ripple of excitement danced through her. Right when she’d almost given up hope of a closer look at the property, Grady had unknowingly opened the door to an answered prayer.
She nodded, hoping a carefully casual response wouldn’t betray her eagerness. “If I can find the time, I might do that.”
* * *
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of making more changes to those plans, Grady.”
With a grin, he looked up from where he’d spread the blueprints across the heavy oak table he used as an office desk. Her silver-gray hair upswept and secured with decorative combs, eighty-year-old Grandma Jo stepped into his office. It wouldn’t be long before her signature summertime attire of jeans and a collared shirt gave way to wool slacks and a turtleneck.
“No, no more changes. Sunshine Carston went into a tailspin when she found out we’re opening a wild game supply next to the Artists’ Co-op.” She’d have probably freaked out had he mentioned bow hunters were currently combing neighboring forests for mule deer and that elk season was getting underway. “I made the mistake of inviting her to look at the plans and see for herself that she has nothing to worry about. She called a while ago to say she’s on her way.”
“That sounds proactive. Why is inviting her here a mistake?”
“Just is,” he said with a shrug. He wouldn’t admit to his grandmother that the manager of the Artists’ Co-op had been on his mind more than she should be. “I guess by going this extra mile to disarm her fears, I almost feel as if I’m fraternizing with the enemy. I mean, she is Mom’s opponent.”
“Nonsense, Grady.” Grandma joined him to gaze down at the blueprints. “I have the utmost confidence in you as a guardian of this family’s best interests. Don’t let that previous situation you found yourself in undermine you. We all make mistakes, and trust those who aren’t worthy of our trust. But don’t let that weigh on you. Nothing came of it.”
Except his own broken heart and the humiliation of the betrayal. Not to mention letting down Jasmine’s daughter when things had fallen apart, and how he’d unwittingly risked his family’s reputation. Don’t forget that, Grandma. He hadn’t.
Since Hunter had grown up on stories of how his great-great-grandfather had almost lost the Hideaway due to misplaced trust, and seeing with his own eyes the repercussions of Aunt Charlotte’s nasty divorce from Dad’s younger brother, you’d have thought he’d have been more cautious about where he placed his heart. But he’d been head over heels for Jasmine—who’d falsely given others the impression that he and his family endorsed a controversial land-development project she was orchestrating behind the scenes. One that, had she succeeded, would have resulted in filling her pockets with a lucrative kickback. Thankfully, the ring was still in his pocket when everything came to light. But it had been a close call.
“Grady?” His twenty-year-old sister, Rio, appeared in the doorway, sun-streaked blond hair cascading down her back and her expression troubled. “Sunshine Carston’s here. She says you’re expecting her, but I asked them to have a seat while I tracked you down.”
“Them?” Sunshine brought someone else along? He hadn’t counted on a third party.
“Her kid is with her.”
Tensed muscles relaxed. “Thanks, I’ll go get her in a minute.”
Rio departed and Grandma Jo returned to the door.
“This is a smart move, Grady, to put Sunshine’s fears to rest. Don’t let the past cause you to second-guess yourself.”
But had his motive for inviting her been entirely untainted? Since that last disaster in the romance department, he’d rededicated himself to safeguarding the Hunter clan in both business and personal dealings—going to excessive lengths to ensure he didn’t make the same mistake again. But had his invitation, ostensibly on behalf of family business, been influenced by a subconscious hope of spending time with the attractive woman?
Now alone in the room, he moved to the window facing the forest behind the Hideaway and adjusted the wooden louvers. Rearranged a chair. Straightened a crooked lampshade.
Then, tamping down an inexplicable sense of anticipation, he paused again to appraise the room—and uttered a silent prayer that his spiritual armor would remain securely in place.
* * *
“Come sit by me, sweetheart.” Sunshine patted the leather sofa cushion next to her, relieved that Tessa seemed less clingy this morning than she’d been in recent weeks. She’d slept somewhat better last night, too, only calling twice for her to banish something lurking in the shadows of her closet. Now enthralled with the animal heads on the log walls, the half-barrel end tables and an antler-designed chandelier above, it was almost too much to expect her raven-haired kindergartner to anchor herself to one spot.
Maybe she should have waited to come until after Tessa was in school for the afternoon. Having a five-year-old in tow wouldn’t make sleuthing for clues easy. But after the holiday weekend, Tori had had to make a quick trip back to the thriving Arizona artists’ community of Jerome. Then she’d return tomorrow to help with Tessa and, somewhat reluctantly,
