Rekindled Dreams (2 page)

Yeah, that wasn’t all his sister had left out. He shrugged and spread his hands. “Sudden change of plans. Aunt Tullia had gallbladder surgery; Ma hopped a flight because she doesn’t think anyone can get well without her help. Da tagged along to help Uncle Cass at the furniture store. And I’m stuck here with a laundry list of restorations. Don’t you check voicemail? I left two messages.”

Vena’s gaze softened. “Is
Tullia okay?”

“She is. I talked with Ma this afternoon.” He grinned, touched at the caring in her voice. “Thanks for asking.”

“Regarding messages—I have a new cellphone and am still learning how it works.” She pulled off her hat, tossed it on the sofa, and ran her fingers through her hair. “So, where does that leave us?”

“Do you realize what you’re getting into?” He searched her face for a reaction. “I can’t take on Ma’s duties.”

“I don’t care about that.” Vena jumped up and started pacing, cape swirling around her knees at each turn. “It is one o’clock in the morning. I’ve either been traveling in, or waiting for, a vehicle all day long. I’m exhausted, and all I want is sleep.” Hands jammed on hips, she glared. “Whatever happened to the famous Quaid hospitality? I’m ready to stretch out on this sofa and call it a night. If you have an ounce of pity in your soul, you’ll toss a blanket over me.”

Little Elfie had grown a temper? He studied her face. Smudges shadowed her eyes and lines bracketed her pinched lips. Now was not the right moment to ask for her help. Vena’s participation in his plan was essential, but he’d need to put on his best Irish charm. “Take Moira’s old room.”

“Thanks, Finn.” She moved in his direction.

He expected a hug, but instead received a playful punch on the shoulder. Like the ones he used to give her. “I promise to steer clear of your work. You’ll never even know I’m here.” She picked up a bag and headed toward the stairs.

This changed Vena didn’t sound like she’d stay on the sidelines for long. Not to mention, no red-blooded male within ten miles could overlook this beauty. “Vena?” His conscience wouldn’t let him sleep if he didn’t hint at his proposition. “I have a favor to ask, but I’ll wait until morning.”

Sleepiness weighted her eyelids, and she blinked. “At this moment you are my hero,
Finnian. I would say yes to anything you asked.”

Guilt clenched his stomach. Should he tell her now and be done with his request? One glance at her vulnerable face convinced him otherwise. “Hold that thought until tomorrow. Goodnight, sweet dreams.”

****

Vena squeezed her eyes tight and snuggled deeper under the patchwork quilt. The morning sunlight had interrupted her dream of hitching rails, dirt streets, and wooden storefronts. A cowboy dressed in tooled leather boots, a calf-length duster, and black Stetson swaggered closer. His intense blue gaze entwined with hers.

She knew those eyes.

Finn. Body alive with wakening sexual energy, she sat upright. A quick glance around helped her remember where she was—Montana. Settling back against her pillow, she wondered if she’d been too impulsive. Maybe she should have stayed in Los Angeles to write the vignettes. But that hadn’t worked. So she counted on the atmosphere of small-town Dry Creek to be the inspiration to earn her a coveted promotion.

To increase attendance, she wanted to create a living historical exhibit to display the costumes and artifacts at the Frontier Museum. Dressed in period clothes, volunteers would pose in settings for a kitchen, parlor, and bedroom. Short dramatic scenes would demonstrate how the artifacts impacted their lives.

Attempts at writing the scripts in her acrylic and stainless steel Los Angeles office brought only frustration. The project wasn’t helped by Nick’s disregard for her ideas. Her body stiffened. Lately, doubts had crept into all her opinions of him. Engaged couples were
supposed to work toward common goals, but they were constantly at odds. She shook her head. No thoughts of him for two weeks.

Bolstered by Moira’s agreement, Vena figured time spent walking the streets and soaking up the town’s rich historic past would help the ideas naturally flow onto the page. She hadn’t counted on sharing living space with the sexy man she’d thought she’d gotten out of her system years ago.

****

Finn jerked awake and listened. Water ran in the shower above and gurgled down the pipes in the wall near his head. Lacing his fingers behind his neck, he relaxed against the brass headboard. Thoughts of Vena and the changes the years had brought had kept him awake long after they’d said goodnight.

Something about her was different, but he hadn’t figured out what. Even tired from a long day of travel, she’d looked appealing. The freckles across her nose had faded, but those hazel eyes of hers still sparkled like—

He snapped his fingers. That was it. She’d lost her stutter. Her speech was smooth and deliberate, if a bit rambling. And she was sassier than he remembered. She used to be so quiet, people forgot she was there. This more vocal Elfie,
er, Vena was definitely more intriguing.

An infusion of caffeine would boost his concentration. Yawning and stretching, he pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and padded barefoot to the kitchen. As the rich aroma of coffee flowed from the coffeemaker, he inspected cupboards and the refrigerator for breakfast foods. Spotting the latest ceramic dish in his growing collection of noodle casseroles, he winced. A reminder of the previous night’s disastrous blind date set up by his matchmaking mother.

Cheery humming preceded Vena into the kitchen, and she poked her head through the doorway. “The shower’s all yours. I’m going for a walk.”

Finn stared at the baggy dress that covered her body almost to her ankles. “Wait. Have a cup of coffee with me.” He offered his most charming smile and watched as her gaze flickered around the room cluttered with paint cans, plumbing fittings, and tools. “One cup.”

“Sure, why not?” She tiptoed around a stack of lumber and pulled out a ladder-back chair from the round oak table. “I was surprised to see you last night. Moira said you lived in Helena. Remind me what you’re doing here.”

She wasn’t the only one who’d had a surprise last night. He leaned a hip against the counter and checked on the progress of the coffee. “I do, I mean, I did. Live in Helena. When the biannual legislative session closed, I took a three-month leave of absence and came home.”

“Legislative s-session? You don’t hold office, do you?”

At the sound of her strained words, he glanced in her direction, but she was wiping the table’s edge with a paper towel. What caused the stutter? “No, but my work as an environmental lobbyist is tied to the legislature’s schedule.”

“So, you’re on vacation?”

“Not exactly.” He poured two mugs of coffee and brought them to the table. “Cream or sugar?”

“Just skim milk if you have it, please.”

Why was he stalling? He grabbed a carton, carried it to the table, and held it out. He’d never get an answer if he didn’t ask. “Last night I mentioned asking for a favor.”

“I was pretty tired, but I remember.” She smiled and then sipped her coffee.

He watched her lips part over the rim of the mug. Such plump, pink lips. Scowling, he shook his head against the distraction. “Part of why I’m here is to do restorations on The Shamrocks for consideration on the Registry of Historic Places.”

“That’s great.” She rested her elbows on the table. “I’ve always loved this house, and all your family’s stories—”

This is harder than I imagined.
He held up a staying hand. “Vena, let me get through this in one shot.”

She nodded, hazel eyes opened wide over the rim of her cup.

God, she seemed so trusting. How could he suggest what he was about to? “The main reason I left Helena and came home was to test the waters.” He leaned forward, suddenly intent on making her understand. “A group of backers is encouraging me to continue the Quaid tradition in Montana government. I’m considering running for representative of this district.”

Running through the proposition, he realized how impersonal and cold it might sound. But he had to ask. “My backers tell me I need to promote a balanced image. A bachelor polls less favorably than a settled man.” He gazed into her confused face and took a deep breath. “I need a short-term fiancée.”

****

Sagging backward in her chair, Vena gasped when she should have swallowed. The liquid tickling her throat sent her into a coughing fit. She set down her cup and grabbed the paper towel. Had
Finnian Quaid just proposed?

Maybe she was still asleep and only dreaming this unbelievable scenario. That made more sense. In her teenage version of this exact situation, ‘short-term’ had never preceded the desired word. The large, warm hand patting her back assured her she wasn’t dreaming.

“Vena, can you breathe?”

She raised her arm to nudge his hand away and elbowed his jaw instead, knocking him against a chair. “Oops, sorry.” She peeked sideways and saw him drop into the chair, rubbing his jaw. “That was quite a proposal…um, I mean…special request to just blurt out. Possibly a longer lead in…”

“Sorry.” He shrugged and then turned his chair until he faced her straight on. “Believe me, the whole conversation sounded smoother in my head.”

“Hmm.” Moira had known Finn was at The Shamrocks and hadn’t told her. What shenanigans was her friend up to? Maybe Vena shouldn’t complain. Seeing Finn again had brought back all her wonderful fantasies from so long ago and reawakened her interest. This could be her chance…

But this opportunity sounded too good. That meant one thing—she’d heard it wrong. “Did you say you wanted a fiancée?”

With a grin, he nodded. “But only a short-term one.”

“Exactly what does that mean?”

“Accompany me to a couple of social events and pretend we’re engaged.” His tone was casual, but his intent gaze focused on her face.

At the mention of social events, dread dulled her enthusiasm. Images of stuffy dinners held to raise money for her parents’ archeological digs came to mind. She and her older sister Thia dressed in bows and lace, giving memorized speeches about the importance of fossils to all students. Vena’s heart dropped to her toes. “Sorry, I don’t do public speaking.” Flattening her hands on the table, she started to rise.

Finn grasped her hands. “Hear me out.”

Warmth from his touch set her thoughts racing. Finnian Quaid was asking a personal favor, one that put would them in close proximity. Engaged couples spent a great deal of time together. At least, normal couples did. They held hands, hugged, kissed, and maybe even…

She examined his anxious, sky-blue gaze, and could only nod.

“No speeches, I promise. Those come later, but only if a campaign gets launched. For now, I’m gauging the support these backers think I have.” His lips spread in a crooked smile, and he cocked his left eyebrow. “How about being my date for a couple of business dinners?”

Doubt nagged at her thoughts.
Finnian had never lacked for dates back in high school. “Why not someone local?”

“That’s the beauty of my plan.” He eased back in his chair and crossed both arms over his chest. “You’re here for only a short time. We attend these functions together, I get my answer, and then you leave on schedule. Lots of couples these days maintain long-distance romances. I’ll explain you have commitments in…” As he ran a hand over his jaw, his expression clouded. “Where do you live now?”

She blew out a sigh. “Not a great start, Finn. You don’t know a thing about me.”

“Elfie, please. Give me a chance.” His voice deepened. “I’ve known you since you were a kid. I just have to catch up on the last few years.”

The pleading tone of his voice didn’t go unnoticed. But if he hadn’t noticed her transformation, he had a lot to learn. What was the downside here? All she could see was the potential to spend time with Finn, maybe enjoy a bit of close physical contact. At worst, she’d learn the man didn’t live up to the memories she held dear.

“Don’t say no.” He ran a hand through his hair, tousling it more. “You’ve got to save me from the matchmaking schemes that started my first day back in town.”

“Matchmaking?” A laugh escaped her lips. For the guy every girl at Kit Carson High School had wanted to date?

“The Gray Ladies have been fixing me up with every single granddaughter, great-niece, or cousin’s nephew’s best friend within a fifty-mile radius.” He stalked to the refrigerator, pulling open the door with such force the jars rattled. “Just look at all these casseroles and pasta salads.”

With amusement, she remembered the nickname he’d given the sweet, gossiping senior citizens who thrived on spreading the town’s latest happenings. Leaning forward, she gazed into the refrigerator and suppressed a giggle. “Lured by the culinary abilities of single women. A hideous fate.”

Scowling, he shut the door and leaned back. “Hey, are you laughing at me?”

“Only a little.” She pulled her lips into a straight line. “So, Quaid, what are the ground rules for this pretend engagement?”

“You’re agreeing?” His eyes widened.

“Depends. What am I committing myself to? I’m here to…” The echo of Nick’s jeering laughter over her docent project ran through her head, and she opted for vagueness. “…relax and review ideas for the clothing collection at the museum where I’m assistant curator.”