Chapter 5 What Could’ve Been

Five days later

The citizens of Pinetop were experts at hosting and welcoming people from all over the globe to their holiday craft fairs. The Sweetheart Spectacular was no exception. The decorating committee had gone all out on the Valentine-themed exhibits inside the largest, multi-purpose room at the Pinetop Civic Center.

There was a Queen of Hearts selfie station, inspired by the Alice in Wonderland movie. There was also a Cinderella carriage with real horses, a uniformed driver, and liveried footmen to pose beside. Everywhere Ames looked there were hearts, roses, balloons, and red. Lots and lots of red.

He strolled between the rows of craft booths, enjoying the sights and sounds more than he'd expected to. He found himself grinning at a collection of life-sized cardboard cutouts of various celebrity couples. Where their faces had been were empty holes for people to pose behind — everyone from beloved sports champions to royalty.

Though he was still getting used to the constant holiday celebrations that Pinetop was so famous for, he could easily picture Laura in a setting like this. She'd be in her element behind a craft booth. She and her family adored the holidays.

He tried not to make eye contact with the vendors. Each time he did by accident, he was offered a sample of fudge, jellies, chip dips, soups, and beverages. A trio of clowns mingled with the crowd, offering to blow up long, brightly colored balloons that they twisted into various creatures — dogs, monkeys, butterflies, snails, snakes, and even a frog.

Keeping his head down, Ames reached the end of the second row of booths and rounded the corner to examine what was being sold on the third line. Though he'd passed by a few dozen booths already, he'd yet to reach the one he was looking for.

According to the trifold map of the event he'd been handed at the entrance doors, Brex Morrison's booth should've been in the children's products section at station ninety-six. For this reason, Ames has been browsing his way through the craft fair in reverse order. Station ninety-six, however, was hosting a finger painting station — not Brex's heirloom toys.

He silently counted off the number signs posted in front of each booth. Fifty-six, fifty-five, fifty-four… At station fifty-two, he entered a section displaying handmade toiletries. Candles flickered, and the scent of newly cut bars of soaps and hand lotions filled the air. It was an eclectic mix of smells. Not bad, actually. Still no Brex Morrison, though.

The jewelry booths were next.

Wow! Ames shoved his hands deeper in the pockets of his jeans, stifling a low whistle at the glitter of gems catching the morning sunlight. There were diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and amethysts.

And Brex.

He was manning a booth right in the middle of it all.

Ames slowed his steps to a shuffle, sweeping the contents of Brex's table from beneath the brim of his Stetson. It was odd seeing a toy booth in the middle of a bunch of jewelry booths. Not that there was any law against it.

What he saw on display at Brex's table brought him to a halt. The wooden snowmen nutcrackers scattered across a sheet of white Poly-fil definitely qualified as heirloom toys. Other than the fact that they were snowmen, they were eerily similar to the festive Santas Laura had designed for the Merry Woodmakers' line of nutcrackers.

Ames had stood inside the back of Santa's Toy Factory enough times, watching her parents through the glass as they painstakingly carved, painted, and glued the exquisite creatures together.

Like Laura's festive Santas, Brex's snowmen bore custom hats, gloves, and other accessories. Ames froze at the sight of a tiny rabbit perched on the tree stick arm of one of the snowmen. It looked like an exact replica of one of the miniature rabbits he'd recently witnessed Ayaka Lee gluing onto one of their festive Santas.

He took a step closer to the table, finally realizing how Brex had managed to get his booth moved to the jewelry section of the craft fair. The squatty lower half of his snowmen nutcrackers held an additional detail. The lowest of their three buttons doubled as a pull-down handle, revealing a hidden compartment. The space could be used to hide valuables — small ones like wedding rings, earrings, brooches, or bracelets. The one on display was open, revealing a diamond ring resting inside it.

"Hey! Didn't I see you at the Peppermint Palace the other day?" Brex Morrison's voice wafted his way, making Ames realize it would be impossible to avoid an encounter. Part of him was glad. He wanted to look the guy in the eye and peel back the layers of what he was up to.

He took his time raising his head, pretending to glance around him in an effort to locate the owner of the voice. Finally swiveling in Brex's direction, he exclaimed, "Oh, hi. Yeah, I remember seeing you there. You're Laura's friend, aren't you?"

Brex's swarthy features were unsmiling. "I was going to ask you the same thing." He stretched out one hand airily. "Friend?" He stretched out the other hand. "Or taxi driver?"

Ames was mildly amused by the toy maker's attempt to get under his skin. However, he'd pumped so much adrenaline from the backs of so many spirited broncos that it was no longer easy to get him riled up. He'd taken falls, hits, and kicks. He'd broken plenty of bones. Learning how to keep a cool head through it all, time after time, was what had allowed him to live to see another day.

"Both, I guess." He boldly held the man's gaze. "I'm whatever Laura needs me to be." He had no problem letting Brex Morrison know he was her biggest ally. If the guy was up to no good, maybe it would give him second thoughts before trying anything stupid.

He was dressed in full gypsy mode again today, with lots of rings, beads, scarves, and layers. At close range, Ames was pretty sure the guy's carefully tousled hair was held in place by hairspray. What a fraud! He could call himself a gypsy all he wanted, but he was a little too GQ perfect about the details to come across as authentic.

The craftsman cocked his head to study Ames slyly. "Don't bother getting your hopes up in her direction, bronc rider. She's not going to leave her family. Not for you, me, or anyone else. So unless you plan on relocating permanently to this remote speck of a town…" He shrugged and dropped his hands.

Apparently, Brex had done his homework. It sounded like he knew what the Carson brothers did for a living. Interesting. It would be even more interesting to find out whether he'd done his homework on them before or after his arrival to Pinetop.

"Haven't decided," Ames drawled. It was the truth. "It all depends on what the Lord has in store for me and my family." He pointed upward. "We lean towards letting Him call the shots." That was the strategy that had gotten them through the loss of their parents, as well as the partial amputation of Nash's right arm. They always discussed things first as a family, prayed for direction, then made their decisions together.

They'd come up with this strategy after hearing a sermon about the fourth chapter of Ecclesiastes.

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor. If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up…

Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

Ames and his brothers had decided years ago that the three of them were stronger together than apart. They'd joined the rodeo circuit together and made a name for themselves as bronc riding champions. After packing away enough winning pots and buckles, they'd subsequently purchased Canyon Creek Ranch together. And after Nash's injury, they'd transferred to Castellano's indoor rodeo together. Being a team worked for them. He didn't see that changing anytime soon.

Brex made a disparaging sound. "Ah. You're one of those." His tone indicated that he thought Ames was some crazy religious fanatic, the kind with less than all of his brain cells intact.

Ames regarded him sagely. "Nah, I just like to keep things simple." He moved his hands in imitation of what Brex had done to him earlier. "You know…right or wrong. Honest or dishonest. Faithful or unfaithful." He paused to let that last point sink in.

Brex's face turned a mottled red. "If you know Laura at all, then you're already aware of the fact that she's a complicated woman. Naturally, our relationship is complicated."

Ames didn't see her that way at all. She'd been hurt, and that hurt had made her cautious. It was as simple as that. He didn't see any reason to argue the matter further with her ex-fiancé, though. He'd already made his point. The guy had blown it with Laura. On some level, he had to know that. If he truly intended to talk her into giving him a second chance, he had an uphill battle ahead. A very steep, very rocky one that wasn't likely to lead where he hoped it would.

"Good talk." Ames glanced pointedly down at the snowmen nutcrackers that Laura had so adamantly insisted were knock-offs of her family's products. "I'll be sure to let her know I ran into you. No doubt she'll want to come take a look at your snowmen for old-time's sake."

It was so subtle that Ames almost missed it, but Brex winced a little. "Yeah, that would be great."

He was lying. Ames had been around long enough to know when someone wasn't being straight with him. And you think I'm the crazy one? I'm not the one lying to myself. He almost pitied the guy.

Another glance at the knock-off nutcrackers, however, erased that pity. He had no respect whatsoever for thieves. He intended to inform the Lees, then tip off the event organizers. It wasn't going to break his heart one bit if they gave the guy the boot over his dishonesty.

Thursdays wereLaura's favorite day of the week for one simple reason. All four of the Lee toy makers were on duty at the same time. That meant her parents were in the glassed-in workshop in the back of the store, making and decorating toys, while Lucy manned the floor to assist customers. That left Laura free to sit at her easel, sketching out new toy designs.

Sometimes customers watched over her shoulders and asked questions, but they mostly left her alone with her flow of creative juices. Mornings were the quietest, allowing her to get the lion's share of her work done. The afternoons were busier, so she often ended up laying down her pencil or charcoal to assist her sister on the showroom floor.

While she sketched this morning, she allowed her mind to wander. Her thoughts inevitably ended up on her evolving relationship with Ames. She was still getting used to the idea of him being more than a friend. They weren't dating yet, but they'd grown a lot closer in recent days.

She blushed at the memory of his confession about wanting to kiss her. He'd always been honest with her. It was one of his most endearing traits. She hoped he never changed.

She also kind of hoped he'd eventually get around to stealing that kiss he'd been teasing her about lately. Just thinking about it made the heat rise to her cheeks. The way he'd stepped closer and lowered his mouth over hers without quite touching her?—

"Nice farm animals."

Ames' husky voice shattered her daydream, making her jump. "Oh, my goodness! I didn't hear you walk up," she gasped, nearly dropping the piece of charcoal she was holding. Glancing to her right, she found him staring in fascination at her latest brainstorm, a set of farm toys. It would consist of wooden animals, a barn that could be constructed piece by piece and taken apart again and again, and fence slats that clipped together and could be arranged in any size or shape of pasture a child wanted. It all depended on how many spare parts their parents would be willing to purchase. The set could be added to throughout the year with holiday themed pieces — bunnies and chickens for Easter, angels and lambs for Christmas, and so on.

"Yeah, you seemed to be in the zone. Sorry to interrupt." He rocked back on the heels of his cowboy boots, giving her an indulgent once-over.

She was immediately ensnared by the warmth and adoration in his eyes. "It's alright. It's always nice to see you."

"Nice?" His eyebrows shot upward. Stepping closer to her, he muttered, "You are death on a guy's ego sometimes."

A self-conscious giggle slid out of her. "What adjective would make you feel better about yourself, cowboy?"

"Hmm. Let's me think." He propped his hands on his hips, his eyes glinting wickedly. "How about happy? Tell me you're happy to see me."

"I am." She didn't have to think twice about that. "You know I am." She frowned slightly, finding it hard to believe he needed any reassurance in that direction.

"Better." His voice grew lower and huskier as he stepped closer to her shoulder. "I like what you have going on in this sketch."

"Thanks. I think it has potential." She tried not to read too much into how close he was standing to her or the way his breath moved the hair against the side of her neck.

"It has more than potential," he protested quietly. "You're a master designer. That's why your family's products fly off the shelves and practically sell themselves."

She flushed in appreciation. "For a guy who spills coffee as freely as you do?—"

"Ouch!"

She ignored his interruption. "You sure know how to say nice things to me."

"Double ouch! There's that word again. Nice," he repeated it in a disgusted voice.

Chuckling, she swiveled her head his way to deliver a comeback and found her face only a couple of inches away from his.

He glanced furtively around them before rasping, "Have you done any more thinking about our first kiss?"

"Ames," she gasped.

"It's a simple yes or no question." Though his voice was teasing, the look in his eyes was intense.

"Hey there, cowboy!" Lucy moved their way, interrupting the moment they'd been having.

Laura didn't know whether to be irritated or relieved. Maybe she was both. "Do you need something, Luce?" She stared at her pointedly, wondering if she'd interrupted them on purpose.

Lucy shook her head happily. "Not at all. Just had to come to say howdy to my favorite cowboy."

Ames' eyebrows rose. "Don't let Flint hear you say that. He considers himself the star of the Carson brothers' indoor rodeo show."

Laura watched them banter from beneath her lashes, wondering if her younger sister was crushing on Ames or something. A spurt of jealously came out of nowhere, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. Surely not! Her sister wouldn't keep something like that from her. Would she?

"So, uh…" Ames' expression changed as he took a step away from Laura. "I'm not sure how to break this to you guys. Maybe I'm mistaken, but," he shook his head, "I ran into Brex Morrison at the Sweetheart Spectacular this morning, and he's displaying a set of nutcrackers that bear a lot of similarities to your nutcrackers."

"Brex? Selling nutcrackers?" Lucy stared at him as if she hadn't heard right. "Pretty sure he'd rather sell toys to kids that they can use to injure their eyes with or dismember bugs. That sort of thing."

"Snowmen nutcrackers, to be more precise." Ames scowled at the memory. "With custom accessories that the buyer can pick out on the spot. One of them was a small rabbit that looked like an exact replica of—" Whatever he saw on Laura's face made him stop in mid-sentence.

She felt the color drain from her face. "No," she whispered, unable to stop the piece of charcoal from slipping from her grasp. All this time she'd been wondering where her sketches for the snowmen had disappeared to. She'd intended for them to be the next rendition of nutcrackers her family produced. Though she remembered showing the proprietary drawings to Brex, the man she'd been about to marry at the time, she couldn't remember much after that. He'd broken up with her the same day.

"No," she whispered again, swaying on her stool. It was too much. Too awful, even for Brex. This was more than him borrowing the heirloom side of their branding. This was outright theft on his part!

Ames's hands gripped her upper arms, steadying her. "Breathe, Laura."

She clawed at her throat, unable to get her airways to open. It felt like they were collapsing.

"It's happening again," Lucy whimpered. "Do something, Ames!"

"Look at me, Laura," he commanded. Though he remained calm, his voice was firm.

She frantically darted her gaze over his features.

"We're going to breathe together on the count of three, alright? One. Two. Three. Breathe in." His blue gaze bored into hers, imploring her to follow his lead.

She watched him fill his lungs with air, feeling dizzy.

"Together, Laura." He gently shook her shoulders to keep her attention on him. "We're in this together, you hear?"

She nodded, growing more lightheaded by the second.

"On the count of three. One. Two. Three. Breathe in," he repeated.

This time, she was able to drag a little air into her lungs. It was more of a choking gasp, but it was air flowing in the right direction.

"Now out." He slowly released his breath.

She panted hers out in one fell swoop.

"Again, darling." His expression softened a fraction. "Breathe in."

Darling. There was something about the tender way he said the word that told her he meant it. Brex had broken her heart, betrayed her, and stolen from her. But Ames was still here. He'd promised that he'd always be here, that he'd always have her back. And at this very moment, he also had her next breath.

She spent the next minute or two just breathing in conjunction with him. When she could finally speak again, she said the most burning two words on her heart. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. That's what friends are for." There was a world of relief in his voice. His shoulders slumped a fraction, telling her he'd been more worried on her behalf that he'd been letting on.

"Should I call an ambulance?" Lucy sounded close to tears as she bent to pick up the piece of charcoal her sister had dropped.

"Nah, it's just a dumb panic attack." Ames rubbed his thumbs in slow circles over her upper arms. "Laura's stronger than she looks. She's got it under control."

She leaned into his touch. He stepped closer, allowing her to slump at long last against his rock solid chest. She closed her eyes, feeling as safe and as cherished as a stray kitten in the arms of a fireman.

Ames didn't try to fill the silence. He simply held her, rubbing one large hand in a slow circle across her back.

"You're right," she finally confessed in a small voice. "The snowmen were my design. I misplaced them before I had a chance to show them to Lucy or our parents. At least, I thought I'd misplaced them. Now I know the truth."

"You mean he stole them from you?" Lucy sounded like she was gnashing her teeth.

"I don't know." Laura truly didn't know how they'd ultimately ended up in his hands. "I showed them to him. That's all I can tell you. After he broke up with me, I couldn't find them. I was in such a bad headspace after that, I sort of forgot all about them. Until now."

"We can't let him get away with this," Lucy seethed. "There has to be something we can do."

"There most certainly is." Ames sounded grim. "We can report him to the vendor oversight committee and get him booted from the craft fair."

"No." Laura straightened on her stool. "Let me handle this."

Ames' hand slid away from her back.

Lucy stared at her, aghast. "How?"

"I'm going to confront him." She wanted the truth, and this might be the only way she was ever going to get it.

"Not alone you're not," her sister snapped.

Laura sought out Ames' gaze again. "Do you feel up to doing a little more pickup riding?"

"For you?" He cocked his head at her. "Always."

His words filled her with warmth, chasing away some of the coldness created by his latest revelation about Brex.

It waswith a heavy heart that Laura explained to her parents where she was going and what she was going to do when she got there.

Haruki Lee's mouth tightened with disapproval. "I'll go with you." He laid down the carving tool he'd been wielding.

"Ames has already offered to," she assured quickly.

Her father speared him with dark, angry eyes. Then he slowly nodded. "Go."

Ames drove her in silence the short distance to the Pinetop Civic Center. He didn't speak until he found a parking spot. Then he turned to her, looking resigned. "You ready for this?"

She nodded, though it was hardly the truth. How was a person supposed to prepare for a confrontation with their ex, in which they planned to accuse them of theft? There was no precedent for a situation like this. It felt like she was living out her worst nightmare all over again.

Ames opened the door and exited the truck, reaching up to give her a hand down. She refused to let his hand go, keeping a tight grip on it as they strolled toward the sandstone building.

A red and white balloon arch marked the entrance doors. Classic love songs lilted out of the speakers mounted on both sides of them.

Only when Ames held open the door on the right for her did she drop his hand. Pinetop was a small town where people needed little provocation to start rumors about who was dating who. She was in no mood to feed that beast. She was a woman on a mission — to get some answers at long last.

As she and Ames approached Brex's booth together, he slowed his steps. "Since you asked for a pickup rider, I reckon that means you want me to hold back for now?"

"I think that would be best." She gave him a beseeching look. "Just don't go far. Please?"

For an answer, he pressed a hand to his heart.

"Thank you." She clung to his gaze for an extended moment. Then she reluctantly let it go.

It felt like one of the longest, hardest walks of her life to finish the last twenty to thirty steps toward Brex's craft booth. She walked right up to the table and stared pointedly at him, waiting for him to notice her presence.

He was speaking with a customer, accepting payment for one of his snowmen nutcrackers.

It gave her time to get an eyeful of the snowmen. Her heart sank a little further with each detail she took in. There was no denying it. As she'd feared, Brex had stolen her designs.

She could sense the moment he noticed her. The professional smile he had pasted on faded as he finished the transaction and faced her.

"I can explain." It was three short words, but they were as good as an admission of guilt.

"Please do." Her voice shook.

"This." He eloquently spread his hands to take in the wide table weighed down with snowmen. "This is the real reason I came to Pinetop."

"To make money off a set of stolen designs?" Her voice was brittle. "My designs?"

His expression seemed to crumble. "Of course not! Don't you get it?" His voice grew hoarse with urgency. "I wanted to help bring one of your dreams to life. To show you what could've been if I hadn't given up on us. To show you what we can still have together if you're willing to give us another chance."

She was momentarily rendered speechless. The last thing she'd expected was for him to admit outright what he'd done, much less turn it into some twisted attempt at proving he'd done it for her.

"I'm not ready to give up on us, Laura." His voice grew silky soft.

"But you did." She finally found her voice. "That's exactly what you did. You've betrayed my trust on so many levels. This isn't right." She waved her hands at the snowmen nutcrackers. "You did this without my permission, and you're making money off of it."

His mouth twisted bitterly. "So that's it, huh? You're gonna just report me and get me kicked out of town?"

"I didn't say that." She lifted her chin. "I think I have a right to know what you're doing with the money."

He blew out a gusty breath. "Listen. If you want a cut?—"

"I said I want to know what you're doing with the money," she snapped.

"What do you think?" His expression grew shuttered. "I'm sending it to the nursing home in Nevada like I always do. Got both of my grandparents there now."

And now we're back into morally gray territory. Were there no depths the man wouldn't stoop to? Even so, she couldn't bear the thought of pulling the plug on his sales cold turkey and indirectly getting his grandparents pitched out of their nursing home into the street.

"How about you consider the snowmen my donation to charity?" Her voice grew chilly. "But if you ever again take something from me without my permission, I'm going to the police."

A matching brand of frigidness glinted in his eyes. Then he ducked his head, effectively hiding it from view. "You still care. This proves it."

"All it proves is that I've had to forgive you twice." Her words dropped like ice cubes between them.

"I still care." He yanked his head up to meet her gaze. The coldness had disappeared. "How could I not? You're the kindest, most beautiful person I've ever met." His voice grew pleading.

Yet you were awfully quick to let me go. It was going to take a lot more than a few rapid-fire apologies and cheap compliments to convince her that he'd changed. So far, she hadn't seen any evidence of that. On the contrary, she was finding out things she'd never known about him, things that were starting to make her wonder if she'd ever truly known him in the first place.

It wasno fun facing her sister and parents following her decision not to press charges against Brex.

"You mean you're just going to let him off the hook?" Lucy looked ready to explode.

Ames' gaze narrowed on hers. "What about the oversight committee? Even if you don't press charges, they could at least boot him from the craft fair and make him ineligible to participate in any future ones around Pinetop."

She shook her head. "Considering what he's using the money for…" It was difficult to explain, but she tried. "I get that what he's doing is wrong, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I had any part in his failure to continue making payments to his grandparents' nursing home."

"Yes, it's wrong!" Lucy threw her hands into the air. "On so many levels that I don't even know where to begin!"

"She's right." Ames' sad expression almost did Laura in. It was one thing for him to be irritated by Brex's dishonesty. It was another thing entirely for him to be disappointed in her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured to him as she walked him to his truck. "For the first time since we've met, I don't think I want to know what you think about me right now." Nothing good, that was for sure.

"Probably not." He snorted as he bowed his head over his door handle. "Unless you're ready for our first kiss."

She burst out laughing. "That's a little…unexpected."

He lifted his head to meet her gaze. "Why?"

She waved a hand helplessly. "How could you possibly be thinking about kissing me at a time like this?"

He looked surprised by the question. "Because I'm always thinking about kissing you."

He pulled open the door and climbed behind the wheel, shutting the door firmly behind him. Revving the motor, he waved two fingers at her through the window and roared off.