Chapter 2
“WHERE DO YOU WANT THIS?” a low voice asked.
Brandy turned from where she’d just set down a box on the kitchen counter, which had seen better days.
Ian Hudson filled the entire doorway of the cottage, carrying a box marked “Kitchen.”
Brandy tapped the counter. “Here is fine.” She didn’t have a lot of possessions, and they’d been more than halfway done when Ian had showed up. She’d cringed when Austin had asked for his help because the man’s scowl seemed to be a permanent feature on his face.
When he’d strode out of the woods, she thought she’d gone back a few hundred years in time, and Paul Bunyan had just appeared. She’d heard about Ian Hudson, of course. Moved to Everly Falls last year sometime. Brandy had been planning her wedding to Brock Hayes and hadn’t paid much attention to the town gossip. Now, she wished she could at least remember something.
She wondered how a financier—a geek, in other words—had the build of a pro-athlete. The breadth of his shoulders made him look like he could uproot one of the pine trees outside her cottage with his bare hands.
Brandy tried not to stare as Ian strode toward her now, his boots clomping on the bare hardwood floor, which needed a good sanding and probably new stain. Despite olive skin, his dark hair and dark glower, his eyes were a surprising light green. Right now, they were icy, and he seemed to have no problem returning her stare.
“Thanks,” she said as the box thumped on the counter. “I think we’re good from here. Appreciate your help, though.”
Ian and Austin had carried in all the furniture already, and now Austin and Everly were outside, cutting back the overgrown bushes in front of the house. Brandy had told them it could all wait until next weekend, but Everly hadn’t listened to her.
“You staying long?” Ian asked.
This close up, Brandy had to lift her chin to meet his gaze. How tall was he? At five seven, Brandy wasn’t a shrimp, but this guy was really tall. And did she mention he was built? Like he didn’t spend any of his time on the couch. No TV series bingeing for this man.
Not like Brock, her ex, who spent hours in the gym to bulk up. No, this man had a more natural build.
“What do you mean by long ?” Brandy asked. No matter the size of this mountain man, she wasn’t going to let his hard tone and direct questions bother her. She had no problem throwing questions back into his face. Who did he think he was anyway? She was legitimately here, and he could stay on his own property, and out of her way.
Brandy wasn’t exactly familiar with this section of the hills. The waterfall hikes were several miles down the road, and she didn’t know if she’d been up this way much since she was a kid, and they’d drive by “Grandpa’s cottage” every so often.
Ian rested one of his large hands on the edge of the counter. “You don’t look like the nature type. Maybe living in the woods is fun for a short vacation, but you’re moving a lot of stuff into this cottage. Tells me you’re staying longer than a week or two.”
Brandy folded her arms. “ Nature type ? What do you mean by that?” Again, she was asking a question instead of answering his questions. She didn’t know why she wanted to irk the man, except he’d irked her. Blasting out of those trees like he owned the place, suspicion in those clear green eyes of his. Not to mention his perpetual scowl and accusatory words.
“I mean . . .” His voice trailed off as he scanned her person, from the flip-flops she wore to her yellow capris and white-and-yellow blouse, to the strand of pearls at her neck. His gaze lingered, then lifted again to her face.
She felt a blush coming on, not because this man’s perusal of her person was flattering, but because she was angry that he was judging her. He sounded like her mom. Why would you want to live so far from civilization? You don’t even know how to change a flat tire. What if the internet goes out? What if you get sick and can’t drive into town to see the doctor?
It wasn’t that Brandy was helpless. She was a grown woman with a college accounting degree. She freelanced as a CPA, and she also worked for a nonprofit that funded wells in Africa. So she didn’t need to be in an established office. Yes, she relied heavily on the internet, but she was going to get that figured out with the hot-spot subscription she’d added through her cell phone carrier. She’d been to Africa on humanitarian trips—places way more rural and primitive than Grandpa Miller’s cottage.
Nature was just that—nature. Trees, leaves, dirt, and rocks.
“You just look more . . .” Ian paused. “Used to the city life.”
Brandy was pretty sure he was going to say something else. What exactly, she didn’t know, but she could see the contempt, or was it suspicion, in his eyes.
“I love the hills,” she said. “I love trees. I love fresh air. And I’m looking forward to a lot of quiet, Mr. Hudson. So despite what my sister Everly said, I’m not interested in being neighborly. Sorry if that hurts your big, fat ego, but count me out of any neighborhood barbecues.”
Ian’s hard gaze shifted. His dark glower was gone, and the ice faded from his eyes. Then his mouth turned up at the corners, making his entire expression change. Brandy could admit that her brutish neighbor was handsome in a hunk-of-a-man way, but Ian Hudson smiling made something deep inside her chest heat up.
“Perfect, Ms. Kane.” Ian stepped away from the counter. “You won’t have to worry about being neighborly, because the entire reason I live on acres of land by myself is because I want quiet, too.”
Triumph zinged through Brandy. “Well, then, I guess we agree. Again, thanks for your help, and I’d say, ‘See you around,’ but I hope that doesn’t happen.”
Ian’s smile spread.
That smile could weaken a woman’s knees. Not Brandy’s, of course. Handsome men were on Brandy’s completely ignore list. Her heart had been shattered in so many pieces that she didn’t even know where those pieces had ended up.
Ian’s low voice rumbled in the silence between them. “Have a good, uh, week, Ms. Kane.”
“You, too, Mr. Hudson.”
She watched him turn and walk out of the cottage, which had seemed to shrink with him inside of it. Her breath escaped as the screen door banged behind him and his boots pounded across the porch. She heard a short conversation between the men, then Everly’s voice piped up. Whatever they said, Ian Hudson disappeared moments later—back into the woods where he’d come from.
Finally.
Now, Brandy had to convince her sister and almost brother-in-law that she was fine. Bush cutting and porch sweeping could be done another day. Right now, she wanted to arrange her kitchen, make some orange tea, and watch the sun set on her first evening of her new life.
Heading out onto the porch, Brandy paused to see Everly and Austin not working, but standing together in an embrace, as if they’d just been kissing.
“Oh sorry, did I interrupt?” Brandy teased.
Everly looked over, her face flushed, but she made no effort to release Austin. “Not interrupting. Sorry, we’ll get back to work and—”
“That’s the thing,” Brandy jumped in. “I think we’ve done enough hard labor for the day. I want to slow things down for the rest of the day. Tomorrow will come soon enough.”
Everly laughed. “You mean Mom will show up?”
“Yep,” Brandy said. “I need a quiet night before the storm hits.”
Austin chuckled, then he released Everly. They were a striking couple—Austin with his dark hair and warm brown eyes, and Everly’s honey-blonde hair and dancing hazel eyes. Her exuberant personality was a nice contrast to Austin’s more serious nature.
Austin turned toward Brandy. “We’ve got a couple of hours to spare. My daughter is perfectly fine at her friend’s house. Give us the hardest jobs.”
Brandy held up her hand. “No, you’re off the hook. You’ve done so much already. Really. Thank you so much.”
“I get it,” Everly said simply. She joined Brandy on the porch and hugged her. “You want some of that peace and quiet you’ve been craving since your return.”
Brandy hugged her sister back. Since the big breakup with Brock and the cancelation of her wedding one week before the big day, she’d taken a work hiatus and spent a couple of weeks at the beach in a town several hours away. When she’d finished nursing her deepest wounds, she let her mom and sister talk her into coming back to Everly Falls.
She’d moved back into her mom’s house because that’s where she’d been living while engaged to Brock. But the memories around town were too painful. The café where they’d eaten together, the bakery that had been making her wedding cake, the park where they’d taken long walks in the evening . . . And Brock himself still lived in Everly Falls.
She’d blocked his number, of course, but when she saw him in line at Marshall’s Coffee early one morning, she knew she couldn’t live in town anymore. Thus, the solution of relocating to Grandpa Miller’s cottage—which Mom objected to. If anyone would understand, Everly would, since she’d dated Brock first.
Yeah . . . it was a mess.
Brandy was a mess. And she was tired of it. She was going to find her way through it all, though. All she needed was time and quiet and peace, and no nosy neighbors or people staring at her or asking her friendly but intrusive questions.
She didn’t need the small town of Everly Falls to watch her faltering her way back to normal. Or new normal, she guessed.
“Thanks, sis,” Brandy said, releasing Everly. “Seriously, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Call me with anything you need.” Everly drew her cell phone out of her pocket. “I have service, do you?”
Brandy checked her phone. “Yep. It’s all good. And I’ll be setting up my hot spot tonight, so things will be running smoothly.”
“Still.” Everly’s brow dipped. “If things don’t work out here, I can talk to Darla about my old apartment. She’s just using it for storage.”
“I’ll let you know.” They’d been over this, though. The makeshift apartment over the craft store where Everly worked wasn’t a better solution since it would put her right in the center of town. “Thanks again. Drive safe, and give Jessica a hug for me.”
Jessica, Austin’s seven-year-old daughter, had wrapped the entire Kane family around her finger. How would it be to be a kid again, with your whole life ahead of you, unaware of two-timing men and broken hearts?