The Accidental Bride Page 8

  We gave you time.

  This is your week to relax. Throw away your daily planner and your cell phone and let yourself consider a new kind of life. It’s all in your hands now, Jilly. Whatever you decide, we’re totally behind you. That’s without question or limits. Always.

  But take this week and slow down. For once in your hectic life…be lazy. Let someone else cook for you.

  Sleep late.

  Eat lots of chocolate.

  Watch old movies.

  Take a long bubble bath.

  Eat more chocolate.

  Watch the sunset and really see it.

  And instead of sneaking out of the retreat (because we know you want to!) give the knitting classes a chance. You’ve got great teachers and a passionate group of knitters in residence there. You could have the time of your life.

  If you just let yourself.

  XOXOXOXO

  Below the X’s were three hand-drawn faces: Grace, Caro and Olivia.

  Jilly sat very still, clutching the letter hard. She didn’t have any family, but this was something far better. This was a family by choice rather than by a mere accident of blood. They were anchored and bound by hopes and laughter and occasional tears. Because they knew her inside and out, they wouldn’t let her off the hook.

  Jilly folded the letter carefully, returning it to the envelope. The balls of cashmere were light as angel wings, the perfect mix of reds and amber. Under the yarn she found a narrow package that felt heavy. When she opened it, a pair of vintage ivory knitting needles fell into her lap, burnished from age and careful use. At one end of each needle intricately carved lions growled above what might have once been tiny words.

  Jilly took the needles in her hands, feeling the weight of history and the joy of a lineage of skilled women. They had celebrated births, deaths and weddings with the work of these treasured old needles, probably for generations.

  The right tools for the job had always been Jilly’s motto. As the cool ivory rolled over her palm, Jilly felt an odd sense of anticipation. It was as if she had just been given a rare and unexpected gift, something that could take her places she could not imagine.

  If she let it. If she stopped being anxious, opinionated and proud long enough to try something different.

  She glanced outside, watching rain hammer at her patio. She couldn’t skip out when this retreat meant so much to her friends. She’d have to make an effort to learn. If she was a failure, at least she could assure her friends that she’d honestly tried.

  And Jilly was certain she would fail.

  * * *

  WALKER LOOKED AT THE packages on his desk and glanced at his watch. The request for updated maps with field schematics had come in barely twenty minutes after his return from town. He had finished those and packed them carefully. He had to post some signed medical forms, too.

  He rubbed his shoulder, watching the sun vanish behind the racing clouds. The rain had stopped, and it wouldn’t be a bad drive back to town. He could drop everything off and be home for an early dinner with any luck. He had a good book, some new music and a nice stew in the freezer. It was his usual kind of evening here in the mountains.

  But maybe he was getting into a rut. Maybe he needed to be a little more adventurous tonight.

  Like Jilly O’Hara.

  He was pretty sure she wouldn’t sit at home with some reheated stew and a good book. No, she’d round up her friends and go cook on the beach. Or maybe they’d pile into her car and go line dancing at some smoky place down a dirt road where the drinks were cheap and the music too loud to talk.

  Walker blew out an irritated breath. Why was he thinking about Jilly and her maddeningly husky laugh?

  Because tonight his house was too quiet.

  There were too many ghosts waiting for him.

  So what are you afraid of? Go and find her.

  Shaking his head, Walker gathered up his packages, tossed Winslow’s leash in his bag and pulled on his coat.

  * * *

  AFTER DROPPING OFF HIS parcels at the little town post office, Walker turned to look at the night sky. The air was clean and stars sparkled across the dark velvet above his head. The quiet seeped in, rich and deep, and he leaned against the hood of his truck, drinking in the beauty.

  Growing up in Washington, where his father had an office, there had never been silence or time to think. His parents had scheduled every minute of his life, demanding perfection in everything he did. For years Walker had thrived on the challenges and the pace of that life. And for years he had done all he could to make them proud.

  To make them love him, the way a boy wanted his parents to love him.

  But one day he realized that all the awards wouldn’t be enough. There would always be another hoop to jump through and another test to prove himself.

  Right about age fifteen Walker had decided he’d had enough of the hoops.

  He hadn’t seen eye to eye with his driven and demanding parents about a lot of things since then. The years had passed and they had become estranged. Now the calls were short and curt, if they happened at all.

  Walker thought he should do something about that, but he wasn’t going to go home bearing any olive branches. Too many harsh words had been thrown his way for that. Especially after he announced that he was joining the marines and was headed to Afghanistan.

  Hell, why was he dredging all this up tonight?

  He just wanted a little noise and some good food. Maybe some easy laughter and talk. No reason to make it into more than it was.

  He was already in town. The resort wasn’t too far.

  He slid into the truck and whistled to Winslow, who was busy tracking a rabbit in the bushes. “Round ’em up, troops. Let’s go find something to eat.”

  * * *

  BUT HE ALMOST TURNED back three times on the way. Once he stopped to pick up some books he’d ordered at the library. Then he’d stopped at the hardware store.

  What was the big deal? Couldn’t he have dinner out once in a while?

  As he stopped at a light, he saw Jonathan cross the street and wave.

  “Back already, Walker? What did you forget?”

  Walker rubbed his neck. “Nothing. I had some things to drop at the post office. Since I was here, I figured why not go up to the resort and have some dinner.”

  “Dinner? Up at the resort? Tonight?” Jonathan stood on the sidewalk and blinked at him.

  “A man can’t eat?”

  “No. I mean—yes. Of course you can. But heck, Walker, you haven’t been up there in weeks. Why did you decide to go tonight? Is there—” Jonathan stopped and cleared his throat. “Oh.”

  “Something wrong?”

  “No. Not a thing.” Jonathan glanced up the street and then ran around to the passenger side, smiling broadly. “Let’s go see what Red has on the menu.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A LONG LINE SNAKED TOWARD the restaurant so Jilly went off in search of the lost and found. Following directions, she wound through the big, cheerful lodge past hand-forged sconces and fieldstone walls. Everything added to a sense of rustic luxury that Jilly was finding addictive.

  At the end of the hall she followed the sound of laughter to a reception area where a tall, confident woman gave instructions for what appeared to be an intricate crescent scarf knit on tiny needles.

  Crescent? Could you knit that shape? Jilly had only seen triangle scarves and they had never appealed to her practical nature. Decoration aside, how did you wear a triangle and keep it from falling off?

  But a crescent scarf had definite possibilities.

  “May I help you?”

  “Uh—yes. I found a bag on the road today and I think it may belong to someone here.” When Jilly held out the wool bag, the woman gave a sigh of relief.

  “It’s Anna’s bag. I’m so glad you found it. She was distraught because her cell phone was inside along with her knitting things. I believe she was offering a reward, too. If you’ll leave your name and r
oom information, I’ll tell her.”

  “No need for any reward. I was happy to help out.”

  Jilly glanced into a large classroom as clapping filled the air. Excited knitters began to spill out into the hall. When a group approached the desk, Jilly slipped away, avoiding any more questions. She decided she wasn’t ready to look into classes tonight.

  She found a cozy table near the roaring fireplace and scanned the menu. She ordered the resort’s specialty chili with a grilled corn and asparagus salad. Red wasn’t breaking new culinary territory, but his choices looked imaginative and guaranteed to please a wide range of tastes. Healthy, too, Jilly noted. A whole section of the menu was devoted to salads using fresh local ingredients. Plus for Red.

  “Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but I think we owe you a big thanks.” A slender woman with elegantly cut silver hair stood with her arm around a younger, taller version of herself. Both women wore colorful sweaters that would have made Caro’s or Grace’s eyes fog over with envy.

  Clearly knitters, Jilly decided. Likely mother and daughter.

  “I’m Anna Jamieson. I think you turned in my knitting bag. Honestly, I had just about given up hope. I can’t tell you what it means to me.”

  “Uh—no problem. I was glad to help out.”

  “Well, Andie and I had posted a reward. We want you to have it.”

  “No, really. There’s no need to—”

  The woman raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want unlimited free desserts for a week? That was what we promised. If you can pass up one of Red’s chocolate soufflés with fresh raspberries, you’re a better woman than I am. By the way, I didn’t get your name.”

  “Jilly O’Hara.”

  “Thanks a lot, Jilly.” The daughter, Andie, reached out to shake Jilly’s hand. “My mom was going bonkers. You just saved us a huge bar bill. So the desserts are definitely on us.”

  “You really don’t have to.”

  “Oh, we insist.” The younger woman glanced at Jilly’s tote bag. “Are you here for the knitter’s retreat, too?”

  Jilly didn’t want to lie. As the two women waited expectantly for an answer, she realized she was being rude. “Uh, not exactly.” Great lie, O’Hara. “Would you like to join me? Or have you already eaten?”

  “Thanks, we’d love to, but we just finished our class. We need to go put away our notes and knitting stuff. How about we meet up for s’mores and wine later?” Anna Jamieson glanced at her watch. “About 8:30? And this is definitely our treat. You’re not getting away so easy.” She nodded happily to her daughter. “Andie was right. I would have gone nutters without my bag. So we insist, our treat.”

  “Sure. That sounds…very nice.” Jilly managed a smile. As the two women vanished into a crowd of knitters, Jilly counted seven lace scarves, four multi-color vests and one glorious full-length coat knitted in crimson mohair.

  Each garment was a work of art. And not a single blue-haired granny in sight.

  Jilly felt guilty at how biased and uninformed she had been. This was a varied and inspired crowd. But she’d never fit in with experienced artists like these. Her fiber skills were a joke.

  Fortunately her server appeared just then. One glimpse of the fresh corn, grilled asparagus and steaming bowl of chili made Jilly forget about her quandary.

  She’d drown her worries in comfort food.

  * * *

  RED, THE HEAD CHEF, APPEARED ten minutes later. He greeted several guests, stopped to speak with the seating attendant, then spotted Jilly and made a beeline toward her table.

  “Nice to see you again. I hear you had a full day—pulling espresso shots at Jonathan’s coffee shop and then finding someone’s lost bag.” Red raised an eyebrow. “Not to mention a nice long visit with our local hero. You’ve been pretty busy.”

  Jilly felt her face heating. Why did she flush whenever Walker was mentioned? “Jonathan is very nice. I was glad to help him out with a little espresso tutorial.”

  “More than a little one from what I hear. And Anna and her daughter are over the moon about that missing bag. Don’t even try to talk them out of your reward.”

  “If dessert is half as good as this chili was, I’ll be thrilled.” Jilly tapped the empty bowl. “Very nice mix of flavors here. Chipotle and cumin. And is that a hint of espresso for a smoky base?”

  “You got it. I learned that from Mamie. She started the resort with her husband forty years ago. I try to keep at least one of her recipes on the menu. People have been coming here for decades and now they expect it.”

  “If it isn’t broken,” Jilly murmured. “Nice cornmeal muffins, too. That salsa you used was killer, by the way.” Jilly gave a cheeky smile. “Who made that?”

  Red snorted. “As if you didn’t know. That was Jilly’s Naturals—pineapple mango chipotle salsa. A great mix of flavors that really pops with the muffins. Not much could stand up to that chili, either, but your salsa line manages just fine.” He looked thoughtfully at Jilly. “So how long have you known Walker?”

  The sudden change of topic made Jilly blink. “I met him yesterday at the airport. We arrived at the same time and Winslow took a shine to me. More likely to the dried jerky treats in my pocket. As for me, I think it was love at first sight.”

  Red looked startled. “Does Walker know?”

  “Know what?” Suddenly Jilly began to laugh. “No, I don’t mean Walker, Red! I barely know the man. I meant his dog. Winslow is amazing.”

  “Oh. I get it. Sorry.” Red hesitated. “The truth is, we all look out for Walker here. He seems to have taken a serious interest in you, from what Jonathan says.”

  “It was just a simple conversation. I made him some coffee, and he liked it. End of story.” Jilly toyed with her water glass. “Anyone would think you were trying to marry the poor man off.”

  “Of course we are,” Red said flatly. “He deserves to be happy. It’s high time he had a family in that beautiful house of his. He needs stability and roots. If we can give him a nudge in the right direction, you bet we’ll do just that.”

  “Don’t look at me.” Jilly shifted uneasily. “I’m never getting tied down. I’ve got too many other important things to do with my life.”

  “Settling down is important, too. Frankly, I’m surprised that no one has scooped you up already.” Red frowned. “You don’t have anything against marriage, do you?”

  Jilly laughed. “No, marriage is fine and beautiful—as long as it’s someone else’s.”

  “Now that’s cynical. Don’t give up on marriage quite yet. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. And now I’ll buzz off so you can look at the dessert menu. I suggest something chocolate. You’ll have a whole lot to choose from,” he added with a wide grin.

  He moved off, stopping to chat at four different tables. Jilly saw that he was passionate about the resort. Most of the staff seemed to have the same enthusiasm, almost as if this place was a second home rather than simply a job.

  And Red was definitely right about his desserts. Jilly counted six different chocolate fantasies, and they all looked over the top. Chocolate espresso cheesecake, flourless chocolate cake with raspberry sorbet, chocolate blood orange ice cream and double mocha chocolate brownies with whipped cream and coffee bean sprinkles—the list was impressive.

  Jilly would have loved a small tasting menu instead of a full serving of any one. Families or friends eating together would enjoy sharing carefully plated desserts and arguing happily over favorites.

  Maybe Red could serve them in espresso cups or shot glasses, Jilly mused. Or with a teapot and tray. Something quirky and unexpected would make a happy end to the evening. Red could also package dessert mixes as resort souvenirs. The brownies and chocolate espresso cheesecake would be a huge hit. Back in Scottsdale she had—

  “Hey, Jilly.” Jonathan loomed over the table, smiling. “We looked all over and they told us you were in here.” Jonathan gestured to the empty chairs around the table. “You want some company?”

&nbs
p; Jilly felt a wet nose nudge her hand. Winslow bumped her leg, tail thumping.

  The sharp prick of awareness struck again, with a tension of skin and scent and heat. Jilly looked down, laughing as Winslow licked her face. Walker was somewhere close. She could feel that odd hum in her blood.

  She cleared her throat. “That would be…nice.”

  Walker leaned down beside her, scratching the dog’s head. “I think Winslow here wants more treats. Greedy is his middle name.”

  Jilly started to say she was sorry, no more treats. Then her eyes met Walker’s. The interest was there all right, though he didn’t smile. Maybe there was more than simple interest.

  Her face felt warm, and she picked up her menu to hide her surprise at seeing Walker again.

  “You haven’t eaten dessert yet. Great.” Without a pause Jonathan pulled out a chair. “We’ll have whatever you have, but with seconds. Red’s chocolate cheesecake is stellar.” He looked questioningly at Walker. “Take a load off, Walker.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  JILLY SHIFTED RESTLESSLY, frowning at Jonathan.

  Had any matchmaking ever been so heavy-handed? Didn’t Jonathan realize he was embarrassing both her and Walker?

  Completely at ease, he stretched out his skinny legs and waved to a female staffer who blew him an air kiss. Grinning, Jonathan sent a kiss in return.

  “Maybe Jilly wants some peace and quiet.” Walker stood behind a chair, studying Jilly’s face.

  “Then why’d she come to a busy resort?”

  “I guess that’s her business, isn’t it?”

  Jilly’s usual chatter had vanished beneath the almost painful awareness of Walker’s leg only inches from her thigh. Why was everything so sharp, every sense so alert and filled with possibility when he was nearby?