Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

Rhett helped the mud-soaked Sloan Jensen maneuver through the long driveway. He was impressed that she hadn’t dissolved into tears, could tease with him, and was showing her independence and grit, even though she was in an uncomfortable situation and couldn’t walk on her own.

There was something so right about having her in his arms. The coat was a barrier between them, which was good. He might forget his annoyance at Sloan Jensen if he had her fully in his arms. As it was, he felt bad that she’d gotten in over her head and was racking his brain for the connections he had that might help get her out. Most of his builds were within Kalispell city limits. He hadn’t dealt with the county as much but had heard they were slower than a slug. He usually did concrete as opposed to asphalt. He’d been trying to call in his own favors to get road base down. It was nobody’s fault it was too wet.

“Do you own a pair of work boots, Sloan?” he asked as they progressed. He almost asked about pants but hoped boots would equate to covering those legs of hers. If she was insistent on visiting the sites and being around contractors, she’d gain more respect and keep herself safe from crude comments if she was at least dressed appropriately.

“No, sir. No need for boots of any kind in Vegas, Arizona, or California.”

That made sense. She was from areas that rarely saw rain and she had been managing this slow-moving project from a distance for a year and a half. It still blew his mind that the Sloan Jensen he’d been cussing in his mind was the beauty covered in filth that he was now escorting through the long drive framed by budding poplar trees.

“Would you accept my offer of a date to Bass Pro Shops after you get cleaned up?”

What was he doing? He couldn’t date the developer. But Sloan and the developer were still two separate people in his mind. He was having a hard time reconciling them into one. Sloan was an alluring, intriguing, confident, and smart force to be reckoned with. The developer was incompetent and detached, putting irrational ideas in the homeowner’s minds and not following through with his, or rather her, own responsibilities.

“A date?” She squinted up at him, rainwater making her dark lashes look impossibly thick as they framed her deep-brown eyes. “What kind of a date is Bass Pro Shops?”

At least she hadn’t outright rejected him.

“It’s a sporting goods store. They have a nice selection of boots, jeans, flannel jackets, cowboy hats, all the essentials.”

“Oh. Not a real date then.” She moistened her lips.

Rhett lost his train of thought. He’d love to take her on a real date. Would she prefer Mercantile Steak or Blue Samurai Sushi Bar? He wanted to know those things about her and that was out of line for their current relationship. Contractor. Developer. A business lunch could be acceptable. A date at an expensive restaurant? Not on the table.

“No, not a real date,” he admitted. “A shopping trip.”

Didn’t women love to shop? Some of his new sisters-in-law seemed to like it.

“I fear your idea of a shopping trip and mine are vastly different.”

He smiled. “You’re probably right. Unless you’re hiding an Ariat T-shirt under that coat.”

She laughed at that.

They reached the road, or what should’ve been the road, at least where trees had been cleared and a path originally scraped through the thick trees. He stared at the silver Hyundai up to its axles in sludge. He imagined it had Nevada plates, but it was buried too deep to tell.

“Ah, no,” he grunted out.

“Yeah.” She looked at her vehicle and grimaced. “I’ve never driven in conditions like this before.”

“That, sweetheart, is obvious.” He wished he could take back his words as her cheeks darkened, she looked away, and he could swear he saw a telling brightness in her dark eyes. What to do? He was far too accustomed to dealing with men who wouldn’t know offense or emotion if it bit them.

“It’s almost quittin’ time,” he said softly. “Why don’t we get what you need out of your vehicle, I’ll drive you home, and I’ll have a tow company get this out in the morning?”

“You couldn’t tow it with your big old truck?” She blinked up at him, feminine persuasion at work for certain.

“I’d most likely just rip off your flimsy bumper. You do realize why most folks up here drive trucks or SUVs?”

She bit at her lip. “I can’t afford a truck or SUV.”

He straightened in surprise, peering down at her, grateful they were close enough his hat could shield her from the rain and she could look up at him with those dark eyes. Was she serious?

“Even with the setbacks, you got this land free and clear. The money you should’ve cleared from five half-million-dollar lots selling would make a vehicle purchase chump change,” he said before he could recall the words.

“I’m not even in the black,” she admitted. “There was a lawsuit from my family. I had to fight for the land, and I waded through red tape for over a year. I had to take out a large loan to get started. You know how steep the costs of developing land are. Especially land this far off the grid. I set aside most of the money from the lot sales to keep up with monthly loan payments, and pay for the road and everything else that I knew would come due soon. I’ve kept working at my other job to try to offset the costs.”

He nodded, embarrassed he’d forced her to admit that. His compassion for her was growing by the minute but he was also impressed she’d had the foresight to set money aside. He turned and directed her back toward his truck, lined up with the other construction workers’s vehicles in one of the dryer spots in the driveway.

The roofers were sneaking glances at them from their perches, but none of them wanted to rile him so they kept their tongues quiet. He wondered where Andy had disappeared to. Probably picked up a nail gun and started helping the framers with the interior walls that weren’t framed up yet so they could get the electricians and plumbers in as soon as the roof was done, windows installed, and the house was dried in.

“Are your cousins from around here?”

“Yes. My Grandpa Lewis owned all the property.”

He nodded. He knew that, had heard the name and that the guy was a grumpy old recluse.

“He was my mom’s dad,” she said. “He and my dad didn’t get along.” She let out a heavy sigh as they reached his truck, stopping and looking up at him. He was struck by how beaten down and vulnerable she looked. She’d showed such a brave face. He had the irrational urge to fight her every battle. His irritant had suddenly become his project. Not a great idea as the other contractors would not appreciate him championing her.

“My mom’s brother, Ron Lewis, has two sons. Uncle Ron and my cousins thought they’d get this property, since they live west of here and because my dad was estranged and my mom is … dead.”

His eyes widened. Partly because of what she’d revealed about her mom and partly because he’d heard of Ron, Jaxon, and Preston Lewis—mean, foul, lazy drunks was what he’d usually heard them described as. He should’ve connected the dots earlier. Some of the contractors wondered if the Lewis brothers weren’t the ones causing the accidents. Nobody knew what their motivation could be for doing so, besides being annoying. Yet how could this classy woman, even with mud covering her, be related to men like that? True, he didn’t know them personally, but the rumors were plentiful and people made a wide arc around their homestead in a small valley a few miles to the west.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” he said.

“Me too.” She gave him a brave smile, but there was something hiding in her gaze. He’d never known someone who he could read so easily. “It’s been fifteen years. I don’t remember her very well.”

“What do you remember?”

“She was … beautiful.”

“Like mother like daughter,” he said.

Her eyes widened at the compliment but he sensed it annoyed her as well. She took exception to her beauty, or to being compared to her mom?

“A muddy mess is what I am,” she murmured in her deep voice.

He smiled and pulled open the passenger door. She looked into his black Ram 2500’s quad cab. The dark gray leather was top of the line.

“You want me ruining that pretty leather seat?”

He smiled and raised one hand. “Do I have a choice?”

She gave him a sassy glare and tilted her head, her wet curls trailing over her pink coat. “You could just make me walk.”

“Unless you ditch those heels and squelch through the mud barefoot, you wouldn’t make civilization until tomorrow night.”

“I’m afraid you’re right.”

Rhett was afraid if left alone, some man similar to her lawsuit-happy cousins would come upon her, and he didn’t like to think of the outcome.

“Let’s get you in there.” He moved to help her.

“Wait.” She held up a hand and then loosed the thick tie around her waist and undid the buttons of her coat. Pulling the muddy coat off, she started to carefully fold it inside out.

Rhett stared. She had on a fitted white button-down shirt and a tight blue and pink checked skirt. They molded to her womanly curves in a way he hadn’t seen in a long time. A very enticing way.

He passed a hand over his face and looked away. He spent far too much time with contractors.

He was even more grateful that he hadn’t let her walk out to her vehicle on her own. Who knows what she would’ve done or who could’ve come upon her from the other construction sites, or his own? Glancing up, he saw five of the six roofers near the edge of the highly pitched and slick roof, gawking down at her. Luckily they were all secured with ropes and carabiners or they might’ve fallen off, as invested as they were in checking Sloan out.

He wanted to bark at them but feared it would scare her. He never barked at his men. What was happening to him?

Sloan set her folded, inside-out coat on the floor mat and smiled up at him. “I’ll rest my shoes on that and keep your truck semi-clean.”

He gestured to his own muddy self. “I appreciate it, but I’m not lily white here either.”

“But it’s your truck. You can get it dirty and nobody will be upset at you.”

Rhett almost told her he could never be upset at her, but he had been. Really upset. Before he met her.

Just another reminder he should never judge somebody without the full story.

She reached for the ‘oh, crap’ bar and started to pull herself up. Rhett’s hands naturally came around her waist and lifted her the rest of the way. Without her coat in the way, the feel of that trim waist and the curve of her hips made his pulse spike. He tried not to notice the irresistible figure she made in that fitted skirt.

She settled into the seat and smiled at him. “Thank you. You’ve rescued me today.”

Did she have any idea how many ways he’d rescued her? Maybe she would’ve been safe hitchhiking out of this remote area, but he wouldn’t place a bet on it.

“Anytime, ma’am.” He tilted his hat to her and then stepped back and shut the door. Then he glanced up at the roofers with a raised brow. They all gave him guilty looks and turned back to their work. Blowing out a breath, he made his way around the truck.

Climbing in, he knew he’d have to wash his floor mats from his boots, again, but at least his rear and back were clean enough he wouldn’t ruin his leather seats. He smiled over at her. “Where are you staying tonight?”

“Grandpa’s cabin,” she said bravely. “Do you know where it is?”

He nodded, apprehension filling him. The cabin was isolated and off the grid. He didn’t like the thought of her being alone, with sketchy cell phone service. Did she even know how to start a fire or generator? How to prime the well if the pump ran dry? “Has the cabin been vacant since he passed?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” That cabin would be a mess. Almost two years with no occupant. The pipes were most likely frozen, and water or other damage was likely. At best, mice and spiders would’ve taken over; at worst, larger animals could be hanging out in there.

“What?” She studied him.

“The cabin might be a mess, and you’re going to need gas for the generator and wood for the stove.”

She swallowed visibly, and his gut sank. She was in over her head in every which way.

“I can drive you to a hotel in Kalispell,” he said, hoping she’d be reasonable.

Her eyes flickered with a panic that made him grit his teeth. Did she have something against hotels? “I’d planned on staying at Grandpa’s cabin. Less money,” she admitted, then added quickly, “And the memories, of course.”

Rhett didn’t know how to respond. He’d rather pay for her to stay at a hotel than worry about her up here all alone. His compassion for her kept tripling, but she had an independence and grit about her that made him instinctively know she wouldn’t take the handout.

Sloan laid her hand on his arm, and his pulse sped up from the simple touch. “Would you please drive me to the cabin?”

“If it’s not in … good condition. Will you please stay at a hotel?”

Even if it was in good condition, could he leave her up here away from civilization? He was banking on it being a mess. If it wasn’t, he’d have to harness the smooth-talking skills learned from his brother Easton. Sadly, he wasn’t very accomplished at charming women.

“Okay.” She removed her hand and sat back.

He nodded, put it into gear, and drove carefully through the sludge. Consistent speed was the key, and the fact that his tires were Open Range All-Terrain and his Ram truck the best out there for snow or mudding didn’t hurt. He didn’t take his hat off because they weren’t going very far.

They pulled alongside her car, and she reached for the door handle.

“Let me, please. What do you need?”

She paused, considering him. She was independent, that was for sure.

Finally, she nodded. “The suitcases and my purse. Oh, and my treat bag.” She gave him a reluctant smile. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing.”

She bent down to her coat and pulled keys out of a coat pocket. She pushed the buttons to unlock the doors and open the trunk.

He hopped out and made his way around to her vehicle. Hefting her two very large suitcases out of the trunk, he carried them to his back seat. They had to weigh at least fifty pounds each. He was no stranger to lifting heavy weights. He used his home gym most mornings at five a.m. and worked hard from dawn till dusk helping with whatever tasks his crews or subs needed, but it was awkward to brace one of the heavy suitcases against the truck to reach for the rear door handle.

It pushed open just as he reached it.

“Sorry,” Sloan said, leaning over the passenger seat and holding the door open for him. “I didn’t realize you’d go all brawny man on me and carry both those heavy beasts at once. Wow.” She blinked prettily at him, her long dark hair trailing down over her arm, and her neck and collarbones were revealed as she leaned forward. He had to look away again.

Hefting each of the suitcases up into the backseat, he teasingly flexed. “Brawny man that I am.”

She laughed but then said in her husky voice, “I’ve never been so impressed.”

There was something in her deep-brown eyes that said she wasn’t referring to his ‘brawn’. He liked impressing her and he could hardly believe he was bantering with Sloan Jensen, former elusive developer. Easton would be proud of him, but with Sloan the flirting came naturally. With other women, he either had no desire to banter or was awkward at it.

Returning to her car, he shut the trunk and then looked inside the vehicle. The purse and treat bag were on the front seat. He opened the passenger door and grabbed them both, smiling at a bag full of chocolate—double-dipped peanuts, sea-salt caramels, chocolate covered cinnamon bears. He also grabbed her metal water bottle out of the holder.

Striding back to the truck, he set the purse, reusable grocery bag, and water bottle on the back seat, shut the door, and walked around to the driver’s side. He loaded up and took off his hat, ruffling his hair and setting his hat on the console.

“Your hair is … wow,” she said in her throaty voice that made his pulse race.

He turned to look at her. His hair was dark and had a slight wave to it that his brothers didn’t have. “Thanks. Grew it myself.”

And just when he thought he was doing okay with the banter.

He scrambled for something else to say as he dropped the truck into gear. “Battling a little chocolate addiction, are we?”

She grinned and winked at him. “You try driving fifteen hours, six of that through Nevada and southern and central Utah, without a load of chocolate.”

He chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it. Not a big fan of long road trips.”

“Me neither.” She angled toward him in the truck and that dang skirt slid up past her knees.

Rhett blew out a breath, clenched the steering wheel hard, and focused on the road. Thankfully it was only a couple miles north to her grandfather’s house. Rhett’s build was the first south lot—probably why she started with him.

“Are you from Kalispell, Mr. Coleville?”

“Rhett,” he had to remind her again.

“Rhett.” She smiled almost shyly at him.

“I’m from Coleville, about an hour north.”

“The town is named after you?”

“Yes, ma’am, or after my great-grandpa. Take your pick.”

She laughed. Rhett was completely blindsided by her. This woman was a phenom. He’d never forget how the earth shifted when he first saw her. He’d never experienced this level of banter and easy conversation with any woman he’d dated. Sadly, this woman was off-limits. He could only imagine what the other contractors would say if they knew he wanted to date the Sloan Jensen. Especially his mentor Josh Francis who Rhett had been commiserating with regarding Sloan just yesterday morning.

How had none of them figured out she was a female? She had been extremely elusive. He remembered Paul Nash telling him he'd spoken to Sloan Jensen on the phone and the guy ‘seemed a little feminine’. That was laughable now. Sloan was very feminine, and her deeper voice appealed to him like no woman’s voice ever had.

“Why are you only getting here now?” he asked, trying to focus on business and not how magnetized he was to her. “When as soon as you got the county’s approval, you started encouraging the homeowners to push us to dig when there was still snow on the ground?” He risked a glance at her, focused on her lovely face and not her lovely legs.

She stiffened and lifted one hand. “You already pointed out that I don’t understand Montana winters. I’ve been waiting for this for over eighteen months and the homeowners have been waiting since December. The average temperatures were high enough at the end of February and first of March that I thought digging was a safe bet.”

“Not around here. Especially with the rain we’ve had this spring.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry. I was too busy to fly up here. I work—well, worked —for DWA Construction out of Vegas after I graduated with my master’s degree in construction management and technology from ASU.”

His brows rose. He was impressed just as she’d obviously wanted him to be, throwing around the master’s degree and DWA Construction. It was one of the largest in Vegas. His parents encouraged education, but only Houston was an eternal student. Rhett had certificates from the local tech school for plumbing, electrical, framing, finish work, and construction management. Each certificate should’ve taken nine months. He’d doubled up and gotten all of them done in under two years. Definitely no master’s degree, though. More the school of hard work, apprenticeship, and Josh taking him under his wing. Josh had the new build started next door and had been cussing Sloan’s name for weeks. He was not going to be happy if he saw Rhett with his guard down like this.

“That’s impressive. Your focus was commercial construction projects?” That made more sense why she wouldn’t have understood not only the weather but the lack of infrastructure for a far out of the way subdivision. Power lines needed to be strung from miles away, and there was no paved road within miles either. The deep snow, constant rain, muddy nightmare, and county officials stuck in the Middle Ages wouldn’t have been much of a focus in Vegas with commercial deals.

“Yes. I grew up on commercial construction sites in Phoenix and L.A.”

He darted a sharp look at her. “And you still dressed like this coming to a construction site?”

“I didn’t know it would be so muddy,” she protested.

“I’m not talking about the mud,” he muttered, pulling off the ‘main road’, which was a loose term as it was a formerly dirt road, now a mud pit, that this lady needed to make into a paved two-lane, and into the drive that led to her grandfather’s house. Even though sunset was a couple hours off, it felt dark and foreboding with the dark skies, incessant rain, and thick trees lining the thin, rutted-out road.

“What are you intoning?”

He risked a glance at her. She had her trim arms folded across her chest and looked impertinent and offended. She might know commercial deals, but not residential and not Montana. Maybe the workers in Vegas were all well-behaved and clean-mouthed. He doubted it. He loved his guys, and they respected him and worked hard, but he still wouldn’t let any of them date his sister, if he had one, and he didn’t want the gorgeous Sloan Jensen parading around in front of them. She’d distract them and they’d all act like fools trying to get her attention.

A branch scraped across his door, and he bit down on a curse. There went his paint job. He clamped his jaw and maneuvered the slick, potholed road.

Silence filled the truck. Terse, uncomfortable silence.

Lights filtered through the trees, and a few moments later he pulled up to the old cabin. Warm yellow light spilled from the windows. At least the generator was working, but who was in there and what were two battered Chevys doing parked out front?

“Are you expecting someone?” he asked.

“What?” She’d been staring a hole in the side of his head. She whipped around and squinted at the trucks. “No.” Unfolding her arms, she clenched her hands together as if in prayer mode. “Who would be here?”

Rhett shrugged, staring at the windows but not seeing anyone within view. He had some guesses, but he wasn’t about to reveal them to her. He’d been trained by his former Green Beret Captain father to be a human weapon as his family ranch was used for protection details. He also had his favorite Glock 19 and holster in a locked compartment underneath his middle console. He wasn’t afraid to walk in there by himself, but no way was he taking this too-innocent woman in there.

Yet if she was from Vegas and had grown up around construction, maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she seemed.

“Back to the way I dress,” she said, bringing his head around. “You take exception to a woman being classy and professional?”

Rhett grunted out a laugh. He would probably say the wrong thing no matter how he responded. Was she putting off dealing with whoever was squatting in her grandfather’s house or did she really want to know what he thought? “Miss Jensen?—”

“Sloan,” she said, her dark eyes daring him to not use her name.

“Sloan,” he repeated. He actually loved her name, and now that he’d met her, he had no idea how he could think it was a man’s name. With that throaty voice of hers and her beautiful dark looks, Sloan was an exotic and feminine name. “You say you grew up around construction sites, but commercial construction must be quite different from residential.”

“I’m learning it definitely is, but you’re not talking about utilities or roads or dealing with homeowners and county officials.”

“No.” He brushed a hand through his hair. “I’m talking about the crews of men, great guys for the most part, but you saw the roofers’ reaction to you. They might never touch you, but they’ll whistle, stare, and make some crude comments. Even if you were dressed in a baggy sweatshirt, jeans, and boots you’d have to deal with a little razzing, but dressed in a tight shirt, skirt, and spike heels …” He raised his hands, hoping she understood his point.

Pursing her lips, she blew out a breath. “On the sites in Vegas, and the ones I grew up on, the men and women in charge dress up. They only stop by the sites to see the progress, as most of the work is done from a desk in an office building.”

That made more sense how she thought she could manage this project from a distance.

“This is how you dressed the past eighteen months working for DWA Construction?”

“Yes.”

Why did that make him envious of all the men she’d worked with? Even on commercial sites, he’d bet a woman in construction was an anomaly.

“And I’m dressed modestly by Vegas standards.”

He could imagine that was true. “I’m not saying you’re immodest. I’m just saying you”— Look gorgeous. Make my heart race. Are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen— “stand out.” That was an understatement, and she’d stand out no matter what she wore. At least he hadn’t let the other descriptions fly out of his mouth. “Things are done a little differently up here.”

“I can see that.”

He lifted his hands. “I’m only trying to make things more comfortable for you.”

“I understand, and I really appreciate you being on my team.” She gave him a brilliant smile.

Rhett was dazzled, a little unsteady and a lot drawn to her. On her team? He shouldn’t be. An hour ago, she’d been a sort-of enemy, at best a thorn in his side.

But now that he’d spent some time around her?

He really wanted to be on her team.

What could it hurt to help her with the county roadblocks and pulling some strings with the asphalt company and buying her some boots? Josh would be ticked if he saw them together, but it could help Rhett and the other contractors’ progress with their homes.

What could it hurt?

Only his heart when she realized she didn’t fit here and pranced back to Vegas on her sky-high pink heels.