can’t believe this place hasn’t already been snatched up. Is there something you’re not telling me? Like the roof leaks or there’s no indoor plumbing?”
He held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “A couple from Flagstaff signed a lease, but unforeseen circumstances dictated that they break their contract a few days ago.”
She closed her eyes momentarily and drew in a slow breath, almost as if communing with an unseen person. God? Then with a contented sigh she took a confident step toward him. “Meet your new tenant.”
Had he heard right? “You haven’t even seen all of it yet.”
She didn’t so much as slant him a sheepish look to indicate she recognized the impulsiveness of her decision. Clearly, she wasn’t a stranger to spur-of-the-moment leaps.
“There’s an apartment, too, right?”
“A studio in the loft.” He motioned upward to a low wall that concealed a portion of the raftered space above. “Full bath. Kitchenette. There’s a balcony overlooking a patio and toward the wooded properties farther up the ridge.”
“I guess I should take a peek, huh?”
“Please do.”
He couldn’t help but notice how gracefully she crossed the room to the rear of the building, her gently waving hair flowing down the back of her petite frame. Just beyond the staircase she paused to look in an open door. “A half bath, too? Perfect.”
“And a kitchen in the back.”
She hadn’t yet mentioned her intentions for the space, but Hunter Ridge would likely be welcoming another handmade candle shop or stained-glass studio for the summer season. Not exactly what the town needed. At least, however, the town council—one member of which he had the privilege of calling Mom—might sleep better at night with another source of income added to the roster.
He watched with more interest than he was willing to admit as Delaney poked her head into the kitchen, then peeped out the back door window before returning to the main room and heading up to the loft, her footsteps sounding lightly on the wooden stairs.
The next thing he knew, she peered down at him from over the low wall, dimples bracketing a wide smile. “Just as I thought. Love at first sight. Where do I sign?”
No haggling? No pointing out that he’d already laid claim to the previous person’s forfeited deposit so he could afford to cut her a sweeter deal? But in this economy, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Come on down, then, and we’ll do business.”
While few Hunter Ridge natives cared for the influx of newcomers, the bottom line could be a hard taskmaster. But the interlopers would pay well to snag a piece of this mountain country paradise. For that very reason, Delaney’s showstopping smile would serve to little advantage. While the engaging look she occasionally cast his way sparked an almost forgotten flicker of masculine satisfaction, he tamped it down. He had neither the time nor the energy for flirtatious females.
Been there, done that.
And, God help him, he was still paying the price.
* * *
Less than an hour later, Luke Hunter rose from behind a wooden desk to drop two keys into Delaney’s outstretched palm.
“Welcome to Hunter Ridge.”
“Thank you.” But despite his hospitable-sounding words, it was clear the sober-eyed Luke Hunter wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of renting the place to her. Not that he was hostile, exactly. Maybe resigned was a more accurate word.
In a town with too many empty storefronts, you’d think he’d have laid on a thick coat of persuasion to prevent her from marching down the street to the next available space. Instead, when they’d retreated to the offices of Hunter Enterprises, across the blacktop road and a few doors down from what was to be her new summer abode, he’d practically tried to talk her out of signing. But parking limitations, minuscule dimensions of the apartment, and precautions regarding the woodstove didn’t faze her in the least.
This summer was to be a chance not only to help the local church youth ministry while remaining conveniently close to her aunt in Canyon Springs, but an opportunity to find out if her artistic talents held any merit. Would her skills eventually rescue her from a lifetime with her nose pressed to a computer monitor?
“I can hardly wait to move in.” She stood, tucking the keys and paperwork into her oversize woven purse, a tingle of anticipation skimming up her spine. But whether that was solely rooted in God leading her to an ideal property for the summer or founded in the somewhat hesitant smile her handsome new landlord had just bestowed, she couldn’t be sure.
Probably a bit of both.
She rewarded his effort with a high-wattage smile of her own, but he frowned ever so slightly and abruptly stepped to a shelving unit to purposefully peruse its contents.
Was he shy? Unsociable? Or a man with more important things on his mind than the eagerness of a new tenant embarking on a summer adventure?
Nevertheless, she again couldn’t help but notice how he held himself with an almost military bearing, the overhead light that illuminated his neatly clipped, sandy brown hair also emphasizing the strong planes of his face. No, he didn’t appear to be a man who’d empathize with her bubbling enthusiasm, nor had she missed the flicker of censure in his eyes when she’d presented her photo ID. He’d clearly been unimpressed by the evidence of her recent California residency.
Finding what he was looking for, Luke pulled a navy blue folder from a shelf and handed it to her. “Hunter Ridge Chamber of Commerce” it proclaimed in raised lettering. The possible significance of his last name and that of the community hadn’t been lost on her.
“Although you can find this information online, I keep a few of these on hand.” He motioned to the folder as she flipped through its contents. “Since water, gas and electricity are included, you won’t need to make those arrangements. You mentioned, too, that opening a business isn’t your intent, so those sections won’t pertain to you, either.”
“The space will be my studio.” Loving the sound of that—so artistic and professional—she proudly held out both hands, palms downward, to display her rings. “I make jewelry and hope to sell it through the Hunter Ridge Artists’ Cooperative.”
The corners of Luke’s mouth dipped downward, but he made no comment. Instead, he briefly studied the varied ring designs, then gave a brisk nod. “Very nice.”
“Thanks.” She slowly drew back her hands, irritated with herself for hoping to hear something more along the lines of a few oohs and aahs. When had she become so insecure, constantly in need of reassurance regarding her craft?
A telltale muscle tightened in her throat. Since both Aunt Jen and Dwayne Moorley dismissed her artistic efforts as having no significance, that’s when.
She drew in a reviving breath. “I’ve been making jewelry for myself and friends since a high school art class introduced me to working with silver. But it’s time to see what the rest of the world thinks.”
“I wish you the best, then.”
Would
