Ridge might mean that a deer ran out in front of you, rather than getting stuck in any kind of bottleneck traffic.
As she let these thoughts wash over her, she felt the stress of the past few minutes with Colton begin to drain away.
Yeah, essentially, this whole marriage would be her lying back and thinking of Copper Ridge.
That was why she was doing this. For her position in the community that she had come to love more than anything else.
The route to Colton’s house wound out of town on a dirt road and into the mountains. She had to admit, she liked that. If there was one thing that she loved at least as much as the bustling main street of town, it was the thick, dark green silence of the mountains that surrounded Copper Ridge.
Colton stopped his truck in front of a large wrought-iron gate with an ornate design on it. A bear, pine trees and what looked like a river were skillfully shaped into the metal. She wondered if that was the work of Sam McCormack. She imagined it was. The McCormack brothers were two of the most skilled metalworkers in town, if not in the whole state. They were also built from all that time spent doing physical labor.
Lydia had been working with them to arrange tours of their forge for visitors to the town. She was always on the lookout for new ways to entice tourists to come to Copper Ridge, and along with that, ways to improve income for small businesses.
That was one of the reasons she and Sadie Garrett had grown so close. Sadie hosted a lot of events at her bed-and-breakfast, which had become one of the most popular places for people to stay. The whole Garrett Ranch put on a Fourth of July picnic that had become a can’t-miss event for Copper Ridge and surrounding communities.
Yes, everything she did, she did for her town.
Colton entered a code on the brick pillar next to the gate, and it swung open. She drove in behind him, trying not to feel too awed by the sight of his house. She had known the West family had a compelling amount of money, but this was evidence she hadn’t exactly been confronted with yet.
The simplistic description of Colton’s home was log cabin. Because it was built entirely of logs. But that did the large, impressive structure a disservice.
If it was rustic, it was in a very intentional way.
It had a green metal roof, built to withstand whatever weather was dumped upon it, and a wide covered porch with some wrought-iron details that echoed the gate they had just driven through.
The door was a dark wood, the natural grain and beauty emphasized by a glossy stain that didn’t disguise any of the imperfections. It was beautiful, but Lydia had a difficult time imagining Natalie living here. Rustic, Natalie was not.
Lydia supposed that love made you do crazy things. She wouldn’t really know.
She parked her car and got out, attempting to minimize the impressed expression on her face.
“Home sweet home,” Colton said, his tone dry.
“I feel like I can deal with it.”
He arched a brow. “Compared to that little shoe box house you live in?”
Heat stung her cheeks, anger a reckless and unreasonable tide inside of her. “My house is not a shoe box. It’s small. And it’s perfect.” And it’s mine.
“I have an idea,” he said. “Why don’t we practice talking to each other like we aren’t enemies. Your house is fine. And mine...”
“Is fine if you’re into luxury and custom details,” she said grudgingly.
Why was it so hard to...unclench around him?
She had the feeling the answer was buried somewhere in the night she couldn’t remember. Because she most definitely hadn’t been clenched then.
“From you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Oh great, now he felt like he was on the moral high ground. Now he felt like he had won the exchange.
She followed him up the steps. “It’s beautiful. Literally one of the most gorgeous homes I have ever seen. And the fact that Natalie left you at the altar has now become one of the great mysteries of our time. Because she didn’t only leave you, she left this house.”
He treated her to a baleful look. Then he unlocked the door and pushed inside. She followed him, completely unable to look unimpressed now. Because, as glorious as the exterior of the home was, the interior was even more amazing. The front room was open, a large, vaulted ceiling adding the impression of endless space. Which paired nicely with the beautiful light cascading into the floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a view of the dense green timber that surrounded his property.
“It’s so... There are so many trees. How do you have animals and a barn?”
“They’re up the road. There’s a field, a clearing.”
“I didn’t realize you had such a big spread. Natalie never mentioned it.”
“Natalie didn’t really care. I don’t think she loved being up out of town. In truth, she probably would enjoy living in Portland better than living in Copper Ridge. But outside of Copper Ridge, neither my name nor hers carries very much weight.”
Lydia laughed. “Well, she wouldn’t like that.”
“Where does your family live?”
She was taken aback by the question. “Why?”
“Because. It’s a funny thing. Natalie and I are a product of our family name. I built what I have from what my dad started. I’m a West. For better or for worse. For Natalie it’s the same. Her father has been the mayor since she was born. We have roots here that go all the way down. But you...you haven’t been here all that long, and you’ve made your mark on every part of the place. I’ve never known anyone else to do that.”
She swallowed, her throat getting tight. She didn’t really like talking about her family, but she knew that avoidance was a lot more trouble than working out the most straightforward answer. Just enough information to answer without getting into the details was always better.
“I was raised in Seattle. Went to school there, was born there. My family is still there. It’s a beautiful city, but I like Copper Ridge because it’s small. It’s more personal. I guess I’m a little bit of an old lady trapped in a younger body. Most people that move to Copper Ridge do it to retire, I did it to work. To feel part of something. You don’t get that in bigger places.”
“But your family is there. Are you close to your parents?”
She gritted her teeth. “Not especially.”
“I seem to be close to mine. Even though it isn’t easy. My mom is...well, she’s a project. And the whole bastard child thing kind of put a damper on my relationship with my dad.”
Lydia’s heart twisted. For whatever reason, they seemed to be having a cease-fire right now, and she was going to go ahead and honor it. “I bet. Were you close before?”
“I’m the only son he has around. So yeah, I guess we were.” He shook his head. “I’m not the only
