Claiming the Single Mom's Heart (Hearts of Hunter Ridge) Read online

  Dad set aside the sandpaper. “You may not know this, son, but your mother’s folks didn’t think much of me at first.”

  “You’re kidding.” He never would have guessed. But they’d lived in Scottsdale, and Grandma had died when Grady was just a boy, so he wouldn’t have been the most perceptive of observers. “Why not?”

  “Your mom and I were teenagers when we met, heading into our senior year of high school. Her father had come to the Hideaway to hunt and brought his wife and kids along.” Dad shook his head at the memory, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Believe me, I found lots of reasons to hang out wherever your mother might be, which didn’t set well with her parents. They were well-to-do and she was college bound. Ivy League. Some punk kid whose folks ran a hunting lodge didn’t fit the picture.”

  “But Mom married you anyway.”

  “She did. We both knew our own minds. Knew deep down that God had a hand in it. But her folks made the road rocky at first.” Dad shifted his weight and looked Grady in the eye. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that your mother and I, we’re good with whatever decisions you make as long as you’re sure God has a hand in them.”

  Did God have a hand in his relationship with Sunshine?

  It felt right, despite the obvious barriers. But it had felt right with Jasmine, too, hadn’t it? No, not like it did now with Sunshine. Sure, he’d been drawn to Jasmine like a moth to a flickering flame. But looking back, it was more of an ego thing. She was smart, beautiful—and he liked how it felt to be seen with her as much as anything. He’d been bowled over by the fact she was into him, a guy from a small town in what most might consider the middle of nowhere.

  But a more-than-friends relationship with a spiritual foundation such as the one that was blossoming between him and Sunshine? No, none of that with Jasmine.

  “Guess I’ve given you food for thought, huh?” Dad grinned.

  Grady gave him a hesitant smile. “I can’t be sure since this is barely getting off the ground. But there’s something more there, more solid than what I had with Jasmine.”

  “Good to hear it.”

  “This could get sticky, though, you know? Sunshine representing the artists’ community and going up against Mom in the election.”

  “You can’t decide who’s going to get your vote?” Dad’s teasing tone prodded.

  Which candidate is it you’re campaigning for?

  Irvin’s question echoed uncomfortably in his head. Dad might find it funny, but it was no laughing matter.

  * * *

  “It’s nippy out there, isn’t it?” Sunshine shivered as Grady helped her out of his SUV Saturday night, then escorted her up the cabin steps to usher her inside. The scent of baking potatoes welcomed her, triggering a homey whisper of belonging that touched deep inside. Not only of belonging at his place but belonging anywhere he happened to be.

  She smiled up at Grady as he assisted in removing her coat, treasuring that quiet, inner assurance. But was she letting her hopes get ahead of her? Despite what Grady had said earlier, she couldn’t shake concerns about how she’d be accepted by his family. Their backgrounds were vastly different. She very much wanted to believe that wouldn’t matter. But her mother had once alluded to the fact that Sunshine’s father’s grandfather had pressured him not to marry her, a girl from the other side of the tracks, and instead to wed a woman who fulfilled family expectations. Or was there no substance to that at all, but what Mom chose to believe, unable to face the truth that the man who’d fathered her child didn’t love her enough to marry her?

  Grady hung her coat on a peg. “I’m glad Tori’s back so we could get together tonight. I’ve missed seeing you. A glimpse or two of you at today’s grand opening just didn’t do it.”

  “Unfortunately, she’s back because her fiancé broke up with her.” Sunshine was both relieved and angered by that turn of events. And no doubt tonight’s uncertainty about Grady had been influenced by her friend’s emotional upheaval.

  “I’m sorry things didn’t work out. She’s a nice gal.” Grady led the way to the dining table, where he had his laptop set up for a final review of his presentation. He’d told her earlier that he liked what she’d developed, so this meeting was probably an excuse to spend time together. Which was fine with her. She’d missed seeing him this week, too, even though she’d delighted in his phone calls.

  Late each evening, Tessa having been sound asleep for hours, those moments of intimate conversation filled her with a happiness she’d never before imagined. They’d talked well into the wee hours of the morning, both eagerly sharing hopes and dreams and spiritual journeys. Each generously offering the other a glimpse of who they were as children, teens, young adults. So many questions and a mutual willingness to confide answers drew them closer than she would have expected in such a short time. When had she ever felt so comfortable with a man? So safe in opening her heart without fear of rejection? It was crazy. They’d just met. But in many ways it seemed as if they’d known each other forever.

  “Here you go.” Grady set a cup of fragrant tea on the table next to her. “This should get you warmed up, and I’ve lit logs in the fireplace, too. Then as soon as we finish here—I don’t think it will take long—I’ll throw the steaks on the grill and we’ll dine like kings.”

  “You should have let me bring something. I could have made dessert.”

  “I have that covered.”

  “Wow. I feel spoiled.”

  “You deserve to be spoiled.” He settled down next to her and adjusted the laptop screen. “You did a fabulous job on the presentation, putting my data into an eye-catching design.”

  She took a sip of tea. “You did the hard work. All the research. I got to do the fun stuff. Making it pretty.”

  “It was your marketing savvy that filtered the research down to something concise and comprehensible.” He eyed her hopefully. “I’m thinking it might make sense to have you there when I make the presentation. Not only for moral support, but to field questions. I’ll get hammered by Luke and Uncle Doug, and you know this stuff as well as I do now.”

  “You’ll do fine without me there. This is your dream, your moment to shine.”

  “You’re my dream, too.” His words caught her by surprise as his gaze, smoldering with mischief, drifted to her mouth.

  “Now, now, Mr. Hunter.” Flustered, she reached over to tap the page-down key, keeping her eyes trained on the next slide. “Let’s not mix business with pleasure.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” He leaned in a tad closer.

  A ripple of anticipation coursed through her, but she kept her attention glued to the laptop. “Behave yourself now.”

  He laughed, then settled back in his chair. “Okay, I can take a hint. Let’s take a look at this presentation of yours.”

  She pressed Page Down again with more force than necessary. How absurd to feel disappointed that he didn’t persist. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? For their relationship to progress slowly? She was older now, wiser than she’d been when Jerrel had come into her life. With a daughter now to consider, she didn’t dare make any mistakes this time.

  Not when she might very possibly be falling in love with Grady Hunter.

  * * *

  As they washed up the dishes, Grady couldn’t help but occasionally sneak a peek at Sunshine. And each time he did, his heart did a funny little skip he wasn’t accustomed to. While he washed and she dried, there were plenty of opportunities for his fingers to brush hers. Or to lean in close to point out which cabinet or drawer an item she’d dried called home. He couldn’t remember when he’d enjoyed cleanup chores so much. Maybe he needed to rethink installing a dishwasher his mom seemed to think he should get.

  “That was a wonderful meal, Grady.” Sunshine looped the damp towel through the handle of the refrigerator. “A pe
rfect ending to your grand-opening day. Were you pleased with the attendance?”

  He leaned against the counter. “Actually, I was surprised at the great turnout considering that the largest volume of sales is expected to come from online orders. I guess those merchandise drawings and giveaways for adults and the balloons for the kids did the trick.”

  “Tessa made me go back three times so she could have one of each color. Red, white and blue.”

  “Is she sleeping better?” He motioned for Sunshine to precede him into the living room, where they settled in. Her on the sofa, him in his trusty recliner and the fire in the fireplace snapping and crackling and keeping the space comfy.

  “It’s a little early to tell, but she doesn’t seem quite so anxious at bedtime. Sometimes after we’ve said our prayers and I’ve left the room, though, I can hear her saying ‘Jesus says, “Stop.”’”

  He couldn’t suppress a smile, picturing Tessa, eyes closed and blankets snuggled around her as she told the antagonistic feelings who was boss. “Has she given you any hints as to how this all got started?”

  Sunshine shook her head. “None. I’m hesitant to ask if she’s not ready to talk about it.”

  “Give her time.”

  They were silent for several minutes, both gazing into the flames licking at the logs in the fireplace. He sneaked a look at Sunshine, her gaze thoughtful and...troubled?

  Concerned about Tessa?

  As if sensing his attention had focused on her, she looked up. “What?”

  “Is something besides Tessa weighing on your mind?” Gideon’s face flashed into his thoughts. “That Edlow guy isn’t causing problems, is he?”

  “No more than usual.”

  “So what’s up?”

  She brushed the flat of her hand along the sofa’s fabric. “This has been such a lovely evening, I hate to spoil it.”

  A muscle tightened in his chest. Had something he’d shared tonight or during one of those late-night phone calls disturbed her? They’d both shared openly about their pasts, their dreams of the future. He’d never before spoken so freely, so vulnerably to a woman, though. Maybe he’d gone too far.

  He let out a slow breath. “There’s nothing you can’t share with me, Sunshine.”

  Even if she had something to say that he didn’t want to hear.

  “I still have some reservations.”

  “About us?”

  She nodded. “I know you said you don’t think my running for the town council against your mother is anything to worry about. That it will all be over in a couple of weeks and life will go on.”

  “But you don’t agree?”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to agree. It’s just that I’m a realist. At least most of the time anyway.” She stood and moved to the fireplace, her hands outstretched to the warmth, the dancing flames highlighting her delicate features—and the apprehensive look in her eyes.

  He eased himself out of the recliner and joined her, his voice reassuring. “So talk to me.”

  She turned, tears forming in her eyes. What had he done to make her cry? He reached for her hand. “Did I do something wrong? Say something that hurt you?”

  Wiping at the tears with her free hand, she shook her head. “No, not at all.”

  “What, then?”

  “I feel stupid talking about this.” She hesitated, composing herself. “What if your parents don’t want us to get involved? What if they think I’m not good enough for you?”

  “Why would they think that?” He released her hand to cup her face in both of his. “My dad’s already told me that he and Mom are good with whatever decisions I make in my life as long as I make sure God’s a part of it. And that conversation took place only a few days ago—and in reference to you.”

  “You talked to them about me?”

  “To Dad. So stop with the worrying.”

  She blinked back tears. “But...he doesn’t know that my father never married my mother. I’m illegitimate. Not exactly a prize for you to be carting home to the family.”

  “Hey, hey.” He gently brushed away a tear. “Believe me, nobody’s going to hold that against you. That wasn’t any of your doing.”

  “But—”

  “God’s going to lead us. He’ll let us know if this doesn’t have His blessing. Wasn’t it you who told me that it’s His job to close doors? Not mine?”

  “Did I say that?”

  “I believe so. Therefore, repeat after me. Jesus says...?” He raised a questioning brow.

  “Stop,” she finished with a giggle, and his heart soared at the sound of it.

  Then, before she could avert his intentions, he did what he’d been dying to do all evening.

  Kissed her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tori nodded to the envelope Sunshine clenched in her hand. “What are you going to do?”

  Sunshine extracted the documents that had arrived in yesterday’s mail, still trying to digest what she’d read. “I’m not sure.”

  “That shows your great-great-grandfather paid the taxes on the property they now call Hunter’s Hideaway. I matched the description to land records. The following year Harrison Hunter paid taxes on it. Now I’m searching for a record of sale from your ancestor to Hunter, in case it was a legitimate transfer from one to the other.”

  “But it could be,” Sunshine said softly, “that the Hunters found a way to cheat Walter Royce of his land. Just like Grandma’s story.”

  Tori looked torn, as if unwilling to come to that conclusion. She’d been against this search, this hope that Sunshine had clung to of holding modern-day Hunters accountable. “Documentation can tell half-truths. I’ll need to research further, but it looks as if that’s a possibility.”

  “Why didn’t he fight it?” Sunshine gave the papers a shake. “Seek legal help? I know Arizona was still a territory, oftentimes lawless, but land grabbers couldn’t have been well thought of.”

  “Didn’t you notice the date on the death certificate tucked in there? Not long after he paid the taxes, Walter apparently left this area. The following year he died of pneumonia. That newspaper notice implies he died deep in debt.”

  Sunshine eased down onto the sofa, overwhelmed by a sudden sadness. “He died and left his family impoverished.”

  Her family.

  A poverty, in fact, that had taken generations to climb their way out of. She clenched her hands in her lap. How different life might have been for her family if Hunter’s Hideaway had remained in their possession. If Duke Hunter had indeed paid a fair price for the land that would become Hunter’s Hideaway, how could barely a year later her ancestor have died in debt?

  “So what are you going to do?” Tori repeated, her tone unsure. “Now that you may possibly have the evidence you want.”

  “I don’t know, Tori. I guess I didn’t deep down believe Grandma’s story. Didn’t think I’d find proof of it anyway.” Nor had she foreseen feelings for a man like Grady Hunter would stand in her way if she did find it.

  But the dream of righting a wrong was a part of her before she’d met Grady. Before she’d fallen in love with him. Could she march up to the Hunters now and present evidence of their ancestor’s duplicity?

  A muscle tightened in her stomach. Betrayal. That was how Grady would see it. Another betrayal by a woman he cared for. As much as she and Tessa needed a solid financial foundation—their ancient SUV had finally bit the dust yesterday and she had no idea where the next medical-insurance payment would come from—could she do that to him?

  And yet...what if things didn’t work out between them? The attraction was undoubtedly there. He was a good, godly man, but had she lowered her guard too quickly to dream of what it might be like to share her life with him? To be his wife. To give her daughter a father.


  Was that hope realistic? She hadn’t dated much since Tessa’s father had walked out of her life. A few nice guys had come and gone, but things had never worked out. What if things went no further with Grady than dating relationships had in the past?

  No declaration of love. No ring. No wedding.

  She glanced uncertainly at the papers in her hand. Were they a God-provided insurance of sorts? If things didn’t work out with Grady, could she garner the courage to approach his family? See if they would be willing, out of the goodness of their hearts...?

  No. Even if they parted ways, she could never bring herself to hurt Grady like that.

  “What am I going to do, Tori?” She gave her friend a determined smile. “Nothing.”

  Then she crumpled the papers in her hand.

  * * *

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. No offense intended, Grady, but I’m afraid your mother will pull out of the race at the last minute and leave us sitting high and dry.” Thin-lipped, Arlen Gifford swallowed down the remainder of his coffee and set his mug firmly on their back corner table at the Log Cabin Café Thursday evening, his expression undeniably gloomy.

  Grady cut a look at his uncle Doug, who appeared lost in thought across the table from him. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard a similar concern voiced recently and it wasn’t surprising to hear it again, even at this impromptu gathering he’d been pulled into by some of Mom’s more ardent supporters.

  “You can’t blame her, Giff, if that’s the way it goes.” Bo Briggs cut Grady a sympathetic look from under his bushy gray eyebrows. “She looks more exhausted each time I see her.”

  “She’s left us with no options, though.” Arlen’s tone remained petulant. “If she’d have pulled out a month ago, we could have put someone else forward as a write-in candidate. Now we’ve missed the registration deadline.”

  “Don’t blame her.” Patti Ventura narrowed her black-brown eyes in reprimand. “She’d barely started treatments and couldn’t have known how ill they’d make her.”