knew when the last wedding had taken place in Willing, Montana, home to too many bachelors and too few eligible women?
Before my time, Aurora decided, grabbing her car keys off the polished wooden counter of her bar. Way before my time.
Willing was not known for weddings, but if the mayor had his way, that was going to change. Aurora and her bar, the historic Dahl, would be thriving in the center of the Romance Capital of Montana before summer began. And Aurora was going to be ready for the influx of tourists.
She shrugged on an ivory down vest and had one freshly manicured hand on the door, ready to push it open and step out onto the sidewalk, when the door was pulled open from the outside. Aurora caught herself from falling forward into the weak Montana sunshine.
“Excuse me,” came a deep male voice.
“We’re closed,” she said, looking past a denim-covered chest as a truck honked on the street. She waved absently, assuming it was the annoying mayor honking his perpetual enthusiasm toward one and all. She’d deal with him unofficially this afternoon and officially tomorrow morning. She could hardly wait.
“But—”
“Closed,” she repeated, her keys in her hand. “For the holiday.”
“What holiday?”
That’s when Aurora looked at him. Really looked at him. He was tall, late thirties, with dark brown hair that appeared a little too long and a face that should advertise male grooming products in upscale magazines. Hazel eyes, sexy stubble and a casual how-can-you-resist-me smile completed the picture. He was taller than Aurora, who was easily five foot ten, but by just a few inches. A child stood next to him, a young girl with white-gold hair who was bundled into a blue hoodie and jeans. The child stomped her sneakered feet as if she was freezing to death.
“A wedding, but I’m running late and don’t have time to—”
“A holiday for a wedding?” He seemed baffled, but his eyes twinkled as if he knew he was being charming. “Must be some wedding if the whole town is celebrating. Or are weddings that rare around here?”
“As rare as my being on time,” she grumbled, wondering how to get past him. She started forward, assuming he’d move back. Which he did, reluctantly. “It’s the first unofficial Willing to Wed wedding,” she said, knowing how ridiculous she sounded. “It’s not one of the official ones.”
“The what?”
“Jake,” the child begged. “Please?”
“Look,” the man said to Aurora. “I have an emergency—”
“It’s not an emergency,” the girl said, hopping up and down. “I just need to use the loo. This is so embarrassing.”
“Could my daughter—” He gestured toward the child and smiled again, but this time Aurora saw that the smile didn’t quite touch his eyes. He was in a bind and Aurora guessed it was an unfamiliar one. And the girl called her father by his first name?
Aurora frowned as she studied the man. She ignored the sexy stubble, the square jaw and the wrinkled denim shirt. Who the heck was he and why was he here in town, today of all days, when the whole place was practically deserted? She wondered if she should be afraid.
“If this is some kind of trick and you’re actually intending to rob me, you should know that the cash went to the bank last night.” She gave him a look guaranteed to intimidate. She’d practiced that look in front of the mirror for years and was very proud of it.
“Jake” held his hands up, palms out. “No weapons, see? I’ll wait outside,” he said. “If you have a sawed-off shotgun behind the bar, feel free to wave it around. I promise to be terrified.”
“Well—” Aurora stepped back into the bar and flicked on the light switch. She felt sorry for the child, who, unless she was an excellent actress, certainly seemed distressed. But if this was a robbery attempt, the man was in for a fight. She had a can of Mace attached to her car keys and the sheriff’s number on speed dial. Just to be on the safe side, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse and made sure it was on.
“Go to the end of the room, down the hall—over there to the left—and two doors down on the right.”
“Thank you.” The child scurried toward the back.
“I appreciate this,” the man called through the open door from outside. “There was a café on the main road, but it was closed. So was the gas station.”
“I told you,” she said, moving closer to the doorway. “It’s a town holiday. And it’s Sunday. Things are very quiet around here on Sundays.”
“Right. The wedding.”
She saw him take in her dress with its floaty skirt and violet flowers. The look was ruined with the down vest and thick suede boots, but a woman living in Montana needed to be practical.
“And you’re late.”
“Yes.”
“How late? Will you miss it?”
She looked at the clock hanging over the center of the bar above the mirror. “No. Not if I drive fast. And they’ll never start on time.”
“I suppose you know everyone in town.”
“Pretty much.”
“What about Sam Hove? He moved here a few months ago.”
“Why?”
“Uh, I think he was writing a book. I’m not really sure.”
“No, I meant why are you looking for him?” She liked Sam. Everyone did. He and Lucia were together now, planning to get married sometime this summer. The former adventurer and documentary filmmaker had fallen in love with the nicest woman Aurora knew, and no one deserved happiness more than the widow and her three little boys.
“I’m done,” the girl called, hurrying back to the door. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Aurora couldn’t help smiling. The child was very serious and composed. With her round cheeks and light coloring, she looked nothing like her father. Aurora couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew something wasn’t quite right. The two didn’t seem to mesh like a father and daughter. The child wore expensive clothing, but the father certainly didn’t. She stopped the girl before she reached the door and leaned down.
“Are you safe?” she whispered.
“Safe?” The girl’s blue eyes widened.
“Yes,” Aurora said, feeling foolish but unwilling to let the girl leave with someone who didn’t seem to be her father. It was none of her business, of course, but still.... “You know, do you need help?”
“You mean, am I being abducted? Really?”
“Call me crazy,” Aurora replied. “But I have to make sure you’re not in some kind of trouble. I can call the sheriff and keep you safe.”
“It’s
