Blue Ink Page 2

  Assume the best and it will be.

  Chapter Three

  Charlotte

  * * *

  While I waited for Ardan Lanigan to rescue me, I did a further investigation of my surroundings. Despite the elk and the mud, the view of Blue Mountain against the sky stunned this city girl. Everything seemed brighter and more colorful here. Spring wildflowers in shades of purple and yellow poked their pretty heads up between grasses. Beyond, a thick forest was a mass of greenery.

  My thoughts were disrupted by the rumble of an engine. A vehicle resembling a tank bounced down the dirt road. A hundred or so yards from me, the truck veered from the road and into the meadow, dirt and mud flying from its tires. It circled around the herd of elk and stopped several feet from my car. I rolled down the window. There was no way I was getting out until he came for me. What if one of the huge creatures decided to trample me?

  Ardan Lanigan jumped from his truck and strode over to my car. What? Holy God. Bliss hadn’t mentioned her brother-in-law looked like a BBC miniseries star. Dark blond hair hung over his forehead in perfect dishevelment. He had a square jaw, high cheekbones and one of those mouths that seemed always on the verge of smiling and did just that when I gave him a limp wave. I rolled down my window.

  He placed his hands over the open window. “Hello, Charlotte.”

  My toes inside my pointy pumps curled.

  “Um. Hi. Sorry about this,” I said.

  He wore a black t-shirt and faded jeans over his lean and muscular physique. His brown leather boots had clearly seen their share of mud. Who knew mud could make a man look sexy?

  Light blue eyes peered at me through the open window. “No worries. The harem just wanted to welcome you to Peregrine.” His hair was damp and unruly, like he hadn’t bothered to comb it when he got out of the shower. I caught a whiff of soap and men’s cologne. Idaho had just become a lot more interesting. And possibly even more frightening.

  “Harem?” I swallowed as a thousand fireflies came to life in my stomach.

  “Harem. That’s what you call a female herd.”

  “I never knew that. Not that I would. I don’t know anything about elk other than the shedding thing,” I said. His eyes were the color of faded blue jeans and fringed in dark lashes. For a breathless moment, I couldn’t look away. I forgot the elk or the mud or even why I was here.

  “The shedding thing?”

  “Never mind.” I went hot, embarrassed. Handsome men with radio announcer voices made me nervous. I couldn’t stop babbling nonsense.

  “I was hoping to make a better first impression.” I flushed when he met my smile with one of his own. Nice teeth. My dad would approve.

  “You’re making a fine impression.” His bottom lip was full, almost swollen looking, and pink like the stain from my strawberry jam. I wanted to take it between my own and discover its taste.

  “This happens more than I’d like to admit. My brother Kevan is an animal nut. Anyway, that’s why I drive this beast around the property.” He gestured toward his truck. “Terrible gas mileage, which makes my carbon footprint even larger. In my defense, I never take it out on the highway unless it’s snowed. Not that you care about my justifications, really.” He laughed in low, staccato bursts of air before opening my door.

  A chivalrous, rugged, environmentally conscious man who rescues women from elk. What more could a woman ask for?

  “We’ll leave your car and come back for it later. Are your things in the trunk?”

  “Yes. Just a few bags.” I’d sublet my apartment to a friend. Travel light, I’d thought. Free myself of burdens.

  I froze midway out of the car, just before my feet touched the muddy ground. My pumps would be ruined. I looked up at him, embarrassed.

  His brow wrinkled. “I hope you brought some other shoes.”

  “I did.” All of which were inappropriate. I kept that to myself.

  He tapped his bottom lip with his index finger. “You’ll ruin your pretty shoes and get mud on your legs unless I carry you.”

  I gulped. Carry me?

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I said.

  “I’m not going to be responsible for ruining a lady’s shoes.” His precise speech and the low timbre of his voice gave me the sudden urge to close my eyes and curl up in a spot of sun like a spoiled cat. “My mother would never forgive me. Come on now, put your arms around my neck.” When I did so, he scooped me up against his chest. Our gazes locked. Another flutter rippled the lining of my stomach.

  I should have popped in a breath mint.

  “I thought you’d be older.” His eyes had flecks of yellow, like fireworks in a blue ink sky. “Your book cover photo makes you look more mature.”

  “More mature?” I asked.

  “Yes, like at least legal.”

  “I’m older than I look. Thirty, actually.”

  “I’d have to see your license to believe that.”

  “It’s my Italian heritage,” I said. “I look just like my Italian grandmother, Mimi. My dad’s mother.” She was short and curvy like me. I kept that to myself.

  “Can you cook like her?” he asked.

  “How do you know if she could cook?”

  “An assumption, given no data other than my romantic notions,” he said.

  “You’re right. She could cook. So can my mother. The gene skipped me. I’m only good at eating.”

  “That’s fine. We have Effie.”

  “What’s an Effie?” I asked.

  “My live-in housekeeper and cook extraordinaire.”

  He had his own cook. Right. Millionaires lived this way.

  Like I weighed nothing, he crossed over to his tank-like vehicle, opened the door, and set me inside. I realized I hadn’t grabbed my purse and would need the keys to open the trunk of my car. “My keys are in my bag.”

  “No problem.” As he sprinted to my car, I took the opportunity to check out his backside. The view of his broad shoulders and a tight rear did not disappoint.

  He returned with my bag. “What do you have in there? A cement block?”

  “Just the usual.” I rummaged through several lipsticks, my writing notepad, phone, mace, flashlight, a package of tissues, and my calendar of daily affirmations before I found my keys. Did he have to stand so close? I could practically bite into his muscular thigh from this angle. “Here you go.”

  Minutes later, my bags were transferred to the back of his truck, and we were on our way around the elk.

  “Will my car be all right?” I asked.

  “Sure. We lock the gate at night. I had it open for your arrival.”

  We bounced in a pothole. My ample chest bounced up and down like water balloons. I crossed my arms over them before one of them smacked me in the face as I silently cursed Mimi for giving me her big bosom and bottom. May she rest in peace.

  “What about the elk?” I asked. “You don’t think one of them will sit on my car, do you?”

  “I don’t think elk sit on cars.” He took his gaze from the road for a split second to look over at me with an amused expression. “Although the image is funny.”

  The image of an elk smashing in the hood of my little blue Bug was not funny to me. I’d bought that car with my book advance money. It was the symbol of my success and could be wrecked easily. Like my writing career.

  Obviously unaware of my misery, he asked how much Bliss had told me about his family and the Lanigan property.

  “Just that your father owned this property as a vacation spot when you were kids.”

  “That’s right. When my father died, we all agreed to keep the land and build houses of our own. Bliss calls it The Compound.” The corners of his eyes crinkled like rumpled tissue paper when he smiled. I guessed him to be close to forty, although he had a youthful presence. I suspected he was a curious person. My mother always says curiosity keeps a person young.

  As we passed a driveway, he explained that it led to Kevan and Blythe’s home. “Her ex-husband lives
in Seattle, so they have to live there during the school months but spend summers and holidays here.” We came upon another driveway. “Ciaran and Bliss’s house is in there. Nestled in the trees.” I could just spot the outline of a roof. From correspondence with Bliss, I knew that Bliss’s sister, Blythe, had also married one of the Lanigan brothers. Ciaran and Bliss had married a year or so ago. Kevan and Blythe had a blended family of her two daughters and his college-aged daughter.

  “And you?” I asked. “Any wives or ex-wives? Girlfriends, past or present?”

  “No wives, exes or current. A few past girlfriends. None of whom stuck. Currently, heart open for business.”

  My hands fluttered on my lap. Open for business. Available.

  “Bliss tells me you worked together in Portland,” he said.

  “Yes, a few years back. She’s the best.”

  “She said the same about you.”

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “She’s one of my favorite people, so I figured it must be true,” he said.

  “Which is why you hired me sight unseen?”

  “Something like that, yes.”

  I wanted to ask for clarification, but for once my big mouth stayed shut.

  We passed a third driveway. “Who lives there?” I asked.

  “That was my brother Finn’s house.”

  “Oh, yes, I’m sorry for your loss,” I said lamely. Finn had been murdered. I couldn’t remember the exact details, but Bliss said it had been a terrible blow to the family. One that had divided the brothers from one another, until the Heywood sisters had brought them together.

  “Thank you. We don’t know what to do with his house, so it just sits there.” His voice had lowered to just above a mumble. I leaned closer to hear him over the roar of the engine. “None of us can bear to go inside now that all Finn’s things are gone. My sister, Teagan, plans on building a house at some point, but for right now she’s still working in the film industry.”

  “What does she do?”

  “Costume designer.”

  The fact that she worked surprised me. The Lanigan siblings had inherited fortunes from their late father. Lanigan Trucking had been worth more money than I could imagine. I knew from Bliss that Ardan had started a school for troubled boys and did other similar charity work for kids.

  “Bliss told me about your school. Do you still run it?”

  “No, I recently hired a headmaster. I wanted to focus on other projects.” We turned a corner. A pair of cherry trees in full bloom were so close I could have touched them had I rolled down the window.

  “I loved your book,” he said. “Bliss gave it to me for Christmas.”

  “You did?” The thrill of the compliment moved through me in a happy buzz.

  “I have a crush on Luci.” He smiled without taking his eyes from the road. “Is she like you?”

  “I wish.” My detective heroine, Luci Storm, was tall, athletic, and brave. “I live vicariously through her.”

  “Luci reminds Mother of my sister, Teagan. Red hair and all.”

  We turned down a fourth driveway. I held my breath, astonished by the beauty of the house and grounds. I’d expected a rustic, mountain home built like a ski lodge, but instead grey shingles and white trim gave it a distinctly beachy feel. The grounds were simple, with rolling lawns and a tall oak with a wooden swing hanging from a thick branch. Carefully tended flowers and shrubs were arranged in beds near the house. Buds from the cherry trees that lined the driveway fell from heavy limbs and blanketed the ground.

  Ardan pulled into the three-car garage and parked next to a sporty looking black car. “Wait there. I’ll help you down.”

  He jumped from the truck and sprinted around to the passenger side. “Careful now. We don’t want you to break your ankle before you have a chance to meet Mother.” With one hand holding open the door, he offered the other to me.

  I closed my fingers around his. We locked eyes once more. The air between us crackled and lifted the fine hairs on the back of my neck. A million moments not yet lived teased my fanciful mind like photographs fanned out on a dining room table.

  He blinked first. I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or disappointed to be jerked back into reality.

  I allowed him to help me down from the truck. Given the height of the vehicle and my shoes, I’m not sure I could have gotten down on my own. Regardless, I was happy to have his warm hand in mine.

  He grabbed my suitcases from the back and set them next to the steps leading to a door into the house. “I’ll come back for those in a minute. We mostly use the entrance just off the kitchen on the other side of the house. Before we go in, I’ll show you the back. Bliss said you like to swim.”

  “I swim a half mile every morning,” I said.

  “Good for you.” He glanced at me. “That’s something we have in common.”

  I followed him through the garage to the backyard. A patio made of grey stone butted up against a lawn that led into a dense forest. Outdoor furniture and a dining table with an umbrella were spots of blue and green against the grey stone. Comfortable looking chairs were arranged around a gas fire pit just outside a set of French doors. To the left of the patio, glass walls from an enclosed lap swimming pool sparkled in the sun.

  He pointed to the contraption covering the swimming pool. “That cover opens and closes, depending on the weather. I like to swim year-round. The glass keeps it nice and warm, even in the winter. You’re welcome to use the pool whenever you like. I swim in the morning, but there’s room for both of us.”

  “Did you swim competitively?” I asked.

  “High school and college. You?”

  “Just high school. I was too short to be any good. I loved it anyway.”

  “I was decent, but not great.”

  “I have a feeling you’re being modest,” I said.

  He smiled. “Come on inside. I’ll introduce you to Effie.”

  We stepped through the French doors into the kitchen. I halted in the doorway. The kitchen was like something from the movies. White cabinets, black countertops, and chrome appliances screamed wealth. A walnut wood floor gleamed under pendant lighting.

  “What a beautiful kitchen.” I gestured toward the large island in the middle of the room. “Looks like a great gathering place.”

  “My family’s big, so I need one.” He pointed to the breakfast nook nestled next to picture windows. “I love to sit there and read.”

  I imagined him there with a cup of coffee and a book, the sun bouncing off his blond hair.

  The sound of glass shattering broke the tranquility.

  “What now?” Ardan muttered under his breath.

  A woman’s screech echoed through the house. Another crash followed shortly thereafter.

  “I’ll be right back.” He bolted. His boots tracked mud on the clean floor. My mother would be horrified. No shoes were allowed in her house. Boots with caked mud might cause her to hyperventilate. Did she have the same rules for the Airstream?

  My chest ached at the thought of my parents. I hoped they were having a wonderful adventure, but I missed them.

  I set my purse on the counter and sent them a quick text that I’d arrived safely. My mother wrote back almost immediately that they were in southern Florida at a spot by the ocean. They were planning on spending a few weeks at the campsite before heading to North Carolina. She asked about Ardan. Did he seem nice?

  I texted back.

  Bliss didn’t mention he looks like one of our BBC television heroes in American boots and jeans. Newscaster voice. Old soul. Sensitive blue eyes. Makes my stomach flutter.

  Oh dear. Single?

  Yes. As far as I can tell, he lives out here in the middle of nowhere as chaste as me.

  Be careful. I don’t want you hurt again.

  I will be. There’s no way he’ll be interested in me anyway. I’ll be able to crush from afar.

  Why wouldn’t he be? You’re the best girl in the world.

  I love
you, Mom, but you’re biased. He’s richer than God and super hot. I’m not either of those things.

  Your father says hello and to stop being ridiculous. Any man would be lucky to have you.

  I settled onto a stool at the island, smiling at my phone.

  I should go. Love you both. Have so much fun in Florida. Wear your sun hat.

  Unlike me, Mom had fair skin and was tall and slender.

  I will. Let us know when we can come visit in Idaho. We miss you.

  Another crash sounded from the other end of the house. Maybe metal pans smacking onto a marble floor? Dead silence followed. I stared at the granite, looking for a pattern, but it was a haphazard mix of blue, green, and black. The second hand on the clock above the door clicked away, loud in the now silent house. A blue bowl piled with oranges gave off a faint scent of citrus.

  A moment later, a woman burst into the kitchen. She carried a tray with several broken dishes. Coffee and egg yolks stained her white cotton dress. Mascara and liner were smeared under eyes the color of shiny brown buttons.

  She gasped when she saw me. “Dear me. Did you hear all that?” An English accent and rosy cheeks only added to her attractiveness. “I’m Effie. Effie Smith. The housekeeper.” She couldn’t be older than twenty. Her face hadn’t lost the roundness of youth.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Charlotte Wilde.”

  Her dark, straight hair was cut in one of those asymmetrical bobs that looked great on women with round, pretty faces like the one standing before me. “Yes, yes. I know you from your book cover. Ardan and I both thought you were terribly pretty, but you’re even better in person.” As if my appearance made her sad, she set the tray on the counter and started to sob into her hands.

  I looked around the kitchen for tissues and found a box on the small desk in the far corner of the kitchen. I ran across the shiny floor, almost slipping in my pumps. “Here, take these,” I said when I returned to her with a clump of tissues.

  She took them and wiped under her eyes. “I’m sorry to be such a mess upon your arrival, Miss Wilde. I’m usually much more put together and here you are all perfect.” She ran her hand over the stains on her dress. “My dress is ruined. I should have known better than to buy anything white. Girls like me should never buy white.”