Tough Luck Hero. Maisey Yates

in the whole state. They were also built from all that time spent doing physical labor.

      Lydia had been working with them to arrange tours of their forge for visitors to the town. She was always on the lookout for new ways to entice tourists to come to Copper Ridge, and along with that, ways to improve income for small businesses.

      That was one of the reasons she and Sadie Garrett had grown so close. Sadie hosted a lot of events at her bed-and-breakfast, which had become one of the most popular places for people to stay. The whole Garrett Ranch put on a Fourth of July picnic that had become a can’t-miss event for Copper Ridge and surrounding communities.

      Yes, everything she did, she did for her town.

      Colton entered a code on the brick pillar next to the gate, and it swung open. She drove in behind him, trying not to feel too awed by the sight of his house. She had known the West family had a compelling amount of money, but this was evidence she hadn’t exactly been confronted with yet.

      The simplistic description of Colton’s home was log cabin. Because it was built entirely of logs. But that did the large, impressive structure a disservice.

      If it was rustic, it was in a very intentional way.

      It had a green metal roof, built to withstand whatever weather was dumped upon it, and a wide covered porch with some wrought-iron details that echoed the gate they had just driven through.

      The door was a dark wood, the natural grain and beauty emphasized by a glossy stain that didn’t disguise any of the imperfections. It was beautiful, but Lydia had a difficult time imagining Natalie living here. Rustic, Natalie was not.

      Lydia supposed that love made you do crazy things. She wouldn’t really know.

      She parked her car and got out, attempting to minimize the impressed expression on her face.

      “Home sweet home,” Colton said, his tone dry.

      “I feel like I can deal with it.”

      He arched a brow. “Compared to that little shoe box house you live in?”

      Heat stung her cheeks, anger a reckless and unreasonable tide inside of her. “My house is not a shoe box. It’s small. And it’s perfect.” And it’s mine.

      “I have an idea,” he said. “Why don’t we practice talking to each other like we aren’t enemies. Your house is fine. And mine...”

      “Is fine if you’re into luxury and custom details,” she said grudgingly.

      Why was it so hard to...unclench around him?

      She had the feeling the answer was buried somewhere in the night she couldn’t remember. Because she most definitely hadn’t been clenched then.

      “From you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

      Oh great, now he felt like he was on the moral high ground. Now he felt like he had won the exchange.

      She followed him up the steps. “It’s beautiful. Literally one of the most gorgeous homes I have ever seen. And the fact that Natalie left you at the altar has now become one of the great mysteries of our time. Because she didn’t only leave you, she left this house.”

      He treated her to a baleful look. Then he unlocked the door and pushed inside. She followed him, completely unable to look unimpressed now. Because, as glorious as the exterior of the home was, the interior was even more amazing. The front room was open, a large, vaulted ceiling adding the impression of endless space. Which paired nicely with the beautiful light cascading into the floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a view of the dense green timber that surrounded his property.

      “It’s so... There are so many trees. How do you have animals and a barn?”

      “They’re up the road. There’s a field, a clearing.”

      “I didn’t realize you had such a big spread. Natalie never mentioned it.”

      “Natalie didn’t really care. I don’t think she loved being up out of town. In truth, she probably would enjoy living in Portland better than living in Copper Ridge. But outside of Copper Ridge, neither my name nor hers carries very much weight.”

      Lydia laughed. “Well, she wouldn’t like that.”

      “Where does your family live?”

      She was taken aback by the question. “Why?”

      “Because. It’s a funny thing. Natalie and I are a product of our family name. I built what I have from what my dad started. I’m a West. For better or for worse. For Natalie it’s the same. Her father has been the mayor since she was born. We have roots here that go all the way down. But you...you haven’t been here all that long, and you’ve made your mark on every part of the place. I’ve never known anyone else to do that.”

      She swallowed, her throat getting tight. She didn’t really like talking about her family, but she knew that avoidance was a lot more trouble than working out the most straightforward answer. Just enough information to answer without getting into the details was always better.

      “I was raised in Seattle. Went to school there, was born there. My family is still there. It’s a beautiful city, but I like Copper Ridge because it’s small. It’s more personal. I guess I’m a little bit of an old lady trapped in a younger body. Most people that move to Copper Ridge do it to retire, I did it to work. To feel part of something. You don’t get that in bigger places.”

      “But your family is there. Are you close to your parents?”

      She gritted her teeth. “Not especially.”

      “I seem to be close to mine. Even though it isn’t easy. My mom is...well, she’s a project. And the whole bastard child thing kind of put a damper on my relationship with my dad.”

      Lydia’s heart twisted. For whatever reason, they seemed to be having a cease-fire right now, and she was going to go ahead and honor it. “I bet. Were you close before?”

      “I’m the only son he has around. So yeah, I guess we were.” He shook his head. “I’m not the only son he has around. He has Jack Monaghan. He just spent thirty-five years ignoring him.”

      “Family is terrible.”

      “You think so?”

      “I just told you I don’t see my parents who live one state over. Family is a terrible, complicated thing.”

      “On that we can agree.” He lifted a hand. “But, we’re never going to agree about peaches.”

      “I’m okay with that.”

      “I’ll grab your things, and then you can start settling in.”

      Colton headed outside, leaving Lydia alone with her thoughts. She turned a circle in the room, examining the fine details of the space. The rich fabrics on the couch and chair, the rustic coffee table that appeared to be made out of the same logs that had been used to form the bulk of the house, and a piece of sheet metal. Again, something that looked old, but probably cost more than her last paycheck.

      She was going to have to live here with Colton, live here and not spend the next few months tripping over him. Not spend the next month clashing with him. She felt like she was being crushed down into a little ball, and that made it difficult to breathe.

      She was imagining spending the next few months tiptoeing through this space, doing her best to make sure her footsteps didn’t sound on the hardwood floor.

      It reminded her too much of other things. Too much of her childhood home.

      Of being the least important person in a space. She swallowed hard, shaking her head, brushing her hair out of her eyes. No, she wasn’t going to do that. Because she didn’t do that anymore. She had driven into Copper Ridge at the age of twenty-two and started carving out niches for herself all over the place. Had made sure that she had effected change in the place, that she didn’t tiptoe, that she wasn’t quiet.