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Haley's Mountain Man Page 3
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She looked up and up, and up some more. His hair was straight, except for the slight wave at the ends, and fell a few inches below his collar. Either he’d put off going to the barber or he was in that awkward growing-out stage. Probably the former. She tried to determine the accurate word for the color of his hair. Brown did the job, she supposed, but it wasn’t nearly enough. In her mind, brown in and of itself was a flat, drab shade, holding little depth, little light, little of interest. But Gavin’s hair was filled with light. It was thick and lustrous, rich with hues of chestnut and coffee, chocolate and cinnamon, and the odd golden strand here and there.
So, no. Brown didn’t begin to cut it.
Beautiful, maybe. And she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if that straight line of beautiful hair was as soft to the touch as it looked.
Sad and pitiful, for sure, to be gawking at a stranger’s hair and wishing she could touch it. Haley shook her head and forcibly pulled herself out of her inane thoughts. Maybe Suzette had been right all along. Maybe a date with Matt the teacher was exactly what she needed.
The line moved again, and the standoffish woman gave her order. For whatever reason, Lola didn’t drop into her normal banter, just asked what type of milk the woman wanted and prepared the cappuccino. The woman accepted her coffee, paid and stepped away quickly, without so much as a glance in either Gavin’s or Haley’s direction.
And that also struck Haley as sad. Why, though, she couldn’t say.
Gavin approached the counter, stopped and turned to face Haley again. This time, she noticed his eyes. Good Lord, the man had a gorgeous set of peepers. Again, she had to search for the right description. They were gray, except they weren’t. And they were blue, except not really that, either. She sighed. Mostly gray with the barest hint of blue. If a name for that exact color, in that precisely right combination of gray and blue existed, she didn’t know what it was.
Beautiful would have to suffice there, as well.
“Your turn,” she said, trying desperately to stop staring into his eyes.
“Actually,” he said in a low drawl that made her skin tingle, her pulse hum, “you should go first. I might be a few minutes. Need to talk with Lola about a... Well, you should go first.”
“No, no. I’m fine.” If she went first, she’d have to walk away, and she wasn’t quite ready to walk away. “You’re ahead of me. That’s the way lines work.”
He squinted his eyes, looked as if he were going to argue, but in the end just shrugged his shoulders and nodded. Faced front again, and set the clipboard on the counter. When he spoke, it was in that deep rumble, so low she had to block out every other sound in order to hear him.
“I’ll take one of those hazelnut lattes, large,” he said. “And I was hoping you might have the time to hear me out on something. If not now, I can wait. Or come back another day.”
“How long you needing?” Lola asked, her tone friendly and curious.
“Not long. Shouldn’t need much, I don’t think.”
Nodding, Lola went to the espresso machine, saying, “Go on, then. I’m listening.”
“Right. Okay.” His spine straightened another fraction and he released a breath. “Well, I’m not sure if you knew this, but for the past year, more really, even before officially moving here, I’ve been working real hard on learning the area and getting all the required licenses. So I can guide folks on hikes and white-water rafting trips, and maybe some climbing—” He paused, drew in another breath. “I have everything in order now. For the summer season, and winter, too, for next season. Skiing and such.”
“That’s an accomplishment, all right,” Lola said. “Good for you.”
“Thank you. So now that I have all the paperwork set, I’m in need of customers, and I don’t really know a lot of the locals yet. Which is why I’m here. I thought I’d check in with you, maybe see if you would be interested in—”
“Me?” Lola inserted with a chuckle. “If I had even a quarter of a mind to go white-water rafting or hiking, I’m sure you’d make an excellent guide. Truth of the matter is, those days are about a decade behind me.” Still chuckling, she steamed the milk while the machine pumped out a double shot of espresso. “Sweet, though, you’d think to ask, and I appreciate it.”
“Ah... Well, see. I didn’t mean it exactly in that fashion, but I don’t believe you’re ever too...or rather, that it’s ever too late to enjoy nature,” he said, stumbling around his words. “But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”
It was, Haley decided, very cute. Sweet, even, both his nerves and his earnestness.
Lola grabbed a bottle from the rack of flavored syrups and gestured for him to continue.
“It’s like this,” he said with a small cough. “I made up some...flyers, I’d guess you’d call them, and I was wondering if you might keep some here. Maybe put in a good word for me. In case any of your customers ask about guides or want some pointers or...” He trailed off, pushed the clipboard toward Lola’s side of the counter. “I guess that’s about it.”
Gavin’s entire body tensed as he waited for Lola’s reply, and that, along with the thread of hope she’d heard in his voice, softened her heart into a pile of goo. This mattered to him. And for some reason she didn’t have the answer for, it suddenly mattered to her, too. She shifted to the left, just a tad, and craned her neck to get a better view of the clipboard.
And when she saw the pages clipped there, her gooey heart sank straight to her toes. Oh, dear. While there wasn’t anything acutely wrong with the flyers Gavin had made, they were...basic at best. His name, the services he offered and contact information. Everything was spelled correctly, everything was easy to read. But there also wasn’t anything there, in her mind at least, that would propel a would-be customer to choose Gavin’s services over the multitude of others available in the area. And there were many, many such companies.
Her family’s sporting goods store, for one.
Lola finished preparing Gavin’s coffee, returned to the counter and, after handing him his cup, picked up the clipboard. Now, Haley tensed, waiting and hoping right along with Gavin. Lola wouldn’t say no to such a simple request, would she?
“Your white-water rafting certifications include both the Colorado and the Eagle Rivers?” Lola asked in an easy, conversational tone. “And I take it you’re more than passing familiar with Fish Creek Falls and Rabbit Ears Peak, feel comfortable with the trails?”
“Yes, to all of it,” Gavin said. “Fully state-certified.”
“Hmm. You going to start taking folks up in hot-air balloons, too?”
“What? Um.” Leaning over the counter, Gavin looked at the clipboard, as if thinking that something about hot-air balloon rides had suddenly materialized. “No. Just the hikes and the rafting right now. Maybe climbing, some camping if the interest is there. But I don’t know anything about hot-air balloons, haven’t ever been in a hot—”
“I’m teasing,” Lola said with a boisterous laugh. “And I haven’t been up in one, either.”
“Teasing.” He sort of wagged his head as if the idea of that was beyond him. Also cute and sweet. Sad, too. “Right.”
“What about referrals? And equipment? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy enough to pass on your information, but folks are likely to ask.” Lola gave him a measured look. “And when they do, it would be good if I could answer.”
Without considering the whys, Haley threw herself forward. “Gavin is getting his equipment from us, Lola. From the store. We’ve worked out sort of a...partnership. And you can use my name as a referral. All of us Fosters, actually. We’ve all been working with Gavin, you see, helping him settle in and, well, he’s an excellent guide. Just excellent.”
“Is that so? I’m surprised your mother didn’t mention anything.” The corners of Lola’s lips twitched, and Hale
y figured she knew the real reason Margaret Foster hadn’t mentioned this partnership with Gavin Daugherty. Because one didn’t exist. Yet. “I’m also surprised you didn’t add that bit of information on these flyers, here, Gavin. Might want to—”
“That’s my fault!” Again without thought, Haley grabbed the clipboard, holding it tight to her chest. “I was supposed to get the flyers and brochures and his website and everything prepared, but I spaced out. Gavin was getting everything moving along.” Now she turned toward Gavin. “I’m really sorry I’ve been so slow. Give me another week, tops.”
Eyes narrowed in speculation, Gavin reached for the clipboard. Haley clutched it tighter and eased her entire body backward. Something akin to surprise filtered into his gaze. “I... No apology necessary, Miss Foster. I am perfectly capable of handling this aspect of our...partnership without your assistance. If I could have my clipboard, please?”
“No. I insist. Really! Besides which, it would help to keep this. For reference, as I’m working on the new copy.” Lola, she saw, was watching them with a fair amount of amused curiosity. Great. She’d probably be on the phone to Haley’s mother within the hour. She thrust her mug toward her, saying, “I would love another chai tea. Please?”
Lola squinted her eyes but nodded. The second she turned away, Gavin whispered, “What are you doing?”
“Trying to help.” Oh, dear Lord, what had she gotten herself into? Cole was surely going to kill her when she tried to convince him to go along with a plan she’d barely conceived of. Still, she wasn’t prepared to back down just yet. “I can help. If you’ll let me.”
He worked his jaw, the muscles clenching and unclenching as he looked at her. “Why?”
“Because I want to.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to,” she repeated. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
His entire expression hardened in disbelief. “People don’t generally offer to help a stranger for no cause. Not without wanting something in return.”
“I am. I want nothing, and in case you haven’t noticed, I am a person, so I’d say you’re wrong on that front.” Why was she arguing this? If he wasn’t inclined to accept her offer, she should let the matter drop. But just like the woman she had to confront, Haley couldn’t—wouldn’t—let this drop. “Just say yes.”
A shot of blue slid into the gray of his eyes, changing them into yet another color she couldn’t name. With a quick shake of his head, he held out his hand. “My clipboard. Please.”
She debated refusing, but really, hadn’t she made enough of a fool out of herself? Before handing it over, she ripped off the topmost page, which she then shoved into her purse.
“Sometimes,” she said, “people just want to help for the sake of helping. If you change your mind, you can usually find me at Foster’s Pub and Grill. I mostly work in the back, in the office, so if you don’t see me, just ask for Haley.”
“I won’t change my mind.” He closed his eyes for a millisecond, muttered under his breath. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t know you. I prefer to tend to my own business.”
She nodded, held her shoulders straight. “Okay. The offer stands.”
After another long, steady appraisal, he said, “You’re something, Miss Haley Foster. Definitely something.” He pulled two fives out of his pocket and placed them on the counter. To Lola, he said, “For mine and hers. And I thank you for your time.”
And with that, the mountain man all but marched out of the Beanery, still appearing to be a man very much prepared for a fight. When was she going to learn? She had a habit of doing this, of sticking her foot in where it didn’t belong, where it wasn’t wanted.
“Gee, that didn’t go well,” Haley murmured, accepting the tea from Lola.
“I know what you were doing, and it was sweet of you, but this man...he’s got all sorts of rough edges, kiddo. And I’d estimate that he’s not accustomed to sweetness.” Lola patted her hand and offered a smile. “Very sweet of you, though.”
“You weren’t fooled for a second, were you?”
“Your mom pretty much spills all there is to spill about you kids, so no, not fooled.”
“I tried, I guess.” Another thought occurred to her. “Can you not mention this to my mother? Or anyone else? Um, specifically anyone with the last name Foster?”
“I suppose I can do that.” Lola chuckled. “None of this is my business, now is it?”
“Thanks, Lola.”
The line was lengthening again, so Haley returned to the table she’d shared with Suzette. Rough edges? Not accustomed to sweetness? She knew Lola hadn’t meant to spur her forward with those two comments, but dammit, how could she not try harder?
Chemical response notwithstanding, she liked Gavin Daugherty. Maybe in spite of his rough edges, maybe because of them. She didn’t know, and frankly, didn’t altogether care at the moment. She liked him. And her heart was still a pile of goo.
Sighing, Haley retrieved the flyer from her purse and stared at it, thought about how she should back off and listen to her head for once, and not her heart. That would be the smart thing to do, the practical thing to do. That would be what her brothers would insist she do.
Unfortunately, she mostly ignored her brothers when they insisted she do anything. And listening to her head over her heart? Paying attention to boring old logic instead of her gut? No. She wasn’t very good at those, either. So, really. Why would she start now?
After another minute’s consideration, she decided there were plenty of valid reasons to follow the path of logic, to think instead of feel. But she wasn’t going to.
Logic be damned.
She looked through the window, considered her options, and without another second of hesitation, thrust her arms into her jacket and beelined it toward the door. If she were lucky, she’d be able to catch up to Gavin before he handed out any of those flyers.
After that... Well, she guessed she’d just play it by ear.
Chapter Three
Mind circling with questions, Gavin strode toward his battered pickup truck, berating himself for almost giving in. For that mere second of belief that someone who didn’t know him would actually want to help. He knew better, but dammit, that second of belief had felt good.
More than that. It had felt...possible.
Asinine, that. Why would Haley Foster want to help him, a man she didn’t know, a man who wanted to start a business that could very well cut into some of her family’s income? Didn’t make a lick of sense, and anything that held zero logic raised every one of his red flags.
In his truck, he tossed the clipboard on the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Dammit. He’d been in such an all-fire hurry to leave that he hadn’t left any of the flyers with Lola. So he’d have to go back, but not now. Likely not until he’d found the words to explain that there wasn’t a partnership with the Fosters, that there hadn’t been one to begin with and that no, he had no idea why Haley had claimed otherwise.
Closing his eyes, he rested his head against his seat and exhaled a deep breath, tried to decide his next step. He could stop in at other businesses, as he’d originally planned, but he didn’t feel all that optimistic at the moment. Better to wait until he’d regrouped. Monday, maybe.
Until then, he’d put in some physical labor around his property. Spend the day outside, in the sun, working his muscles until they ached. Yeah. That should do the trick. Of course, if he didn’t start earning more cash than his job at the hardware store gave him, his progress would come to a screeching halt. Not yet, though. He had a little extra left to work with, and plenty he could do with the materials he’d already purchased. Besides, however long it took, it took.
There wasn’t any hurry. So long as he could move forward, he didn’t rightly care how slow that motion was. He opened his eyes
and shoved the key into the ignition, started the engine. Home. Work. When the day ended, he’d have put himself back to rights.
And he’d quit thinking about Haley Foster, her nonsensical offer to help and the way her almost-but-not-quite green eyes had stared into his as if she knew him. Shouldn’t be that difficult. She was, after all, just a woman. Not much more than a girl, really. And even if her offer had somehow been up front and honest, he’d meant what he said: he preferred to tend to his own business. Especially when the business in question meant so much.
The Demkos were an aberration in a world of folks who were more concerned for themselves than anyone else. No reason to believe Haley Foster was also an aberration.
With a muffled curse, he shifted into Drive and pulled onto the road. Too much to hope for, maybe, but that didn’t stop him from doing just that. The sensation was uncomfortable and threatening and dammit, he didn’t like it one bit.
Reaching over, he switched on the radio and raised the volume loud enough to block out his thoughts, a maneuver that typically proved successful. Not today, and by the time he arrived home, he’d swept straight past uncomfortable into spitting mad and raring for a fight.
Well, he’d work that out, too.
And he would’ve, no doubt. But not thirty seconds after exiting his truck, a sky-blue compact car pulled in behind him, and the woman at the wheel was none other than Miss Haley Foster herself. She’d followed him home? Who did that?
Forget gumption. The woman was insane, and had zero sense of self-preservation. Hell, as far she knew, he was an ax murderer. Why would she put herself at risk?
He raked his fingers through his hair, silently counted to ten to rein in his irritation, his concern for her that also made no sense. Whatever she was up to, it stopped now. Had to.
Otherwise, he might go and do something stupid. He might just let that hope take root. Or...he might start believing that the rules of the world—his world—had somehow changed. That, he knew, would be a false belief, and when everything righted itself again—which it absolutely would—he’d be worse off.