Cinderella's Big Sky Groom

But then, before she could say anything to get them going on the topic of her student, their appetizers appeared.

He asked her where she went to college.

“Montana State,” she replied. “Major in education, minor in English. How about you?”

He said he’d gone to Princeton on a scholarship. “I was miserable there. Didn’t know anybody. They’d all come from Ivy League prep schools. To them, I was just a cowboy, manure still on my boots, fresh out of high school in Billings.”

“But you stuck it out.”

“Damn right. Then I went on to law school in Colorado.”

“And got your law degree when you were—what?”

“I took the bar exam when I was twenty-four.”

“That’s pretty young, isn’t it?”

“I knew what I wanted. To make it and make it big. I hired on with Turow, Travis and Lindstrom, a major Denver law firm, right away.”

Trish, who spent her lunch hours at the Hip Hop collecting every tidbit she could on Ross Garrison, had mentioned that he’d come from Denver. “And then?”

His eyes turned cold. “I worked my way up the food chain.”

“At Turow, Travis and—?”

“Lindstrom. Right. I advanced there with alarming rapidity. I was twenty-eight when I made partner. It was an unheard-of accomplishment.” The irony in his tone matched the chill in his eyes, making it seem that the “accomplishment” he spoke of was actually nothing of the kind.

Lynn had the strangest urge—to reach across the table. To lay her hand over his. To say something gentle and understanding, something that would bring warmth to his eyes.

She kept her hands to herself. And he finished, “I stayed with the firm until a little over a year ago, when I decided it was time for a change.”

Time for a change, she thought, and knew there was more to it than that. Trish had mentioned a divorce. A broken heart Trish intended to mend…

Lynn studied him across the table, admitting to herself that, beyond this foolish and dangerous game of flirtation she was playing with him, she had started to like him, to respond to him on some deeper level—which she knew she shouldn’t allow herself to do.

He was too rich. And too sophisticated. And even though he seemed to have zero romantic interest in Trish, her sister had set her sights on him. Trish would never consider Lynn any kind of competition. But still, there would be nothing but trouble in the family if Trish thought Lynn had dared to make a play for him.

And yet, here she was in this fancy restaurant, drinking champagne with him. And flirting. Showing off her smart mouth, as Jewel always used to say whenever her usually self-effacing stepdaughter had the bad judgment to let that particular side of herself shine through.

They should talk about Jenny.

And they would, of course. Very soon. But really, there was no great hurry. She raised her glass to her lips and sipped more champagne.

A few minutes later, the main course arrived. Filet mignon. Fork-tender. It literally melted in her mouth.

She’d just swallowed the first scrumptious bite when Ross warned in a whisper, “Don’t look now, but I think—yes. She’s spotted us.”

“Who?”

“Lily Mae Wheeler. She’s headed our way. I’ll give you a little free legal advice.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell her anything, unless you want the whole town to know.”

Lynn had no time to reply. Lily Mae was upon them. “My Lord, Lynn Taylor! Honey, I hardly did recognize you.” Lynn smiled gamely up at Whitehorn’s most notorious gossip. “You look sweet as a heifer in a field of new clover. I love your hair.” Copper bracelets jangling, Lily Mae patted her own teased and heavily sprayed coiffure, which was auburn at the moment. “Maybe I should try blond again. What do you think?”

“I do like the auburn,” Lynn said judiciously.

Lily Mae left off patting her hair and patted Lynn’s shoulder instead. “Sweet, sweet girl. You always say just the right thing.” False eyelashes batted Ross’s way. “And hello, Mr. Garrison. How are you this brisk October evening?”

“I’m just fine, Mrs. Wheeler.”

“Enjoying that beautiful new house of yours?”

“I am. Very much.”

“It’s up along Route 17, isn’t it? On Black Bear Lake.”

“Yes.”

“I confess, Winona Cobbs has told me all about it. She has to drive by there to get into town.” Winona Cobbs lived in a trailer out at the end of Route 17. She ran her own peculiar enterprise there known as the Stop ’n Swap. She kept bees and was considered by many to possess psychic powers. She was also almost as big a gossip as Lily Mae.

Lily Mae forged on. “And I heard you’ve been hired by the Kincaid estate.”

“That’s right,” Ross said.

Lily Mae clucked her tongue. “Wasn’t that just a terrible shame—about Wendell? There are many who don’t believe it now, but once, Wendell Hargrove was an honorable man. It was after his dear wife, Alice, died that the trouble started. He just couldn’t cope with the loss. He developed that gambling problem. And then he—well, I suppose you know all of this.”

“I’ve heard the facts, yes.”

“And now you’re representing our Jenny.”

“That’s right.”

“You do a good job for her, now.”

“I will, Mrs. Wheeler. I promise you.”

Lily Mae turned on Lynn again. “Hon, I mean it. Your face. Your hair. That gorgeous dress. I do truly love to see a woman make the most of what she’s got. And when that woman is you, well, all I can say is, it is about time.”

Lynn murmured a thank-you; it seemed the safest way to go.

Lily Mae spotted the ice bucket and the bottle nestled in it. “And what’s this? Champagne?” Her painted-on brows went so high, they threatened to vanish beneath the hard fringe of hair on her forehead. “A special occasion?” She waved a carmine-tipped hand, causing more clattering. “Never mind. Of course it is. It’s always a special occasion when an eligible man and a beautiful single woman enjoy a fine meal together…although I must admit, I had thought—” Lily Mae actually cut herself off. “But never mind about that.”

“About what?” Lynn asked, regretting the question immediately.

But Lily Mae surprised her. “Oh, nothing.”