“Yes, she’s at it again. She wants me to find you someone suitable. I thought about telling her I could hook you up with my friend who’s a stripper just to watch her pass out.” Martina grinned. Logan’s cousin possessed a quirky sense of humor he really appreciated. They both knew none of her friends were strippers—at least Logan didn’t think they were. “Just giving you the head’s up, cuz. Now that you’ve hit the big three-oh and got the big title, it’s time for you to pony up and contribute to the Jeffries legacy establishing the company’s future leader. Of course, you’ll have to walk a suitable girl down the aisle in some expensive matrimonial display first.”
Logan shook his head. “I can find my own dates, thanks.”
“Except you’ve been busy with work and finishing up your MBA. Bottom line, you’re not moving fast enough in that direction to suit your parental unit. When you get back from Alaska, be ready to look over the brood mares I line up for you while you’re gone. Make it easier for me. Do you prefer blondes, brunettes or redheads?”
Strictly because they’d just discussed Good Riddance, Jenna came to mind. He was absolutely certain, however, that the outgoing Jenna who did nails for a living wasn’t his mother’s definition of suitable.
“I’d have to say blondes.”
JENNA OPENED THE FRONT door of the new spa and her future home and stepped inside. Even though it was just an empty shell at this point, it was her empty shell.
Home. She grinned and twirled across the open expanse. Breathless, she stopped and looked around her, envisioning the place a month from now.
There was still a faint sense of uneasiness inside her she couldn’t quite shake. When Sven got her place framed in, maybe then she’d shake this feeling.
Thick glass windows offered views of the large evergreens on two sides and Good Riddance on the other two sides.
The materials for the interior lay stacked at the back of the building. She heard Sven, the construction foreman, talking to one of his guys outside. They should finish up the rear exterior today and not a minute too soon. Snow was fast on its way and it was already colder than Sven liked to have his crew working outside. That was the reason she hadn’t popped around out back. She didn’t want to slow them down.
She liked the big third-generation Swede in charge of her construction. Well, she didn’t like him that way. He was a good-looking guy and they got along great together, but there were no sparks there. Just to test the waters, she and Sven had kissed once. Once had been enough. Not that it was awful. Sven was actually a very competent kisser, but she wasn’t looking for competence. Well, actually, she supposed she did want competence, but she also wanted overwhelming passion and that just hadn’t been happening. So, friends they were.
Tomorrow they’d start the interior construction. She pulled her coat tighter around her, envisioning the walls in place and the waterfall that would be in the reception area. It wouldn’t be a big spa but it would be nice. And like most Good Riddance business owners, she’d live upstairs. It was definitely cheaper to build up rather than out.
The front door opened and Nelson Sisnuket stepped inside. His long, raven-black hair was pulled back in its customary ponytail, held with a leather strip.
Nelson was a good friend. Most people liked Jenna well enough, but very few people “got” her. Nelson did.
“Hi, Jenna.”
“Hey, Nelson,” she said, giving him a quick hug.
Nelson was way cool. Jenna loved him. Well, not love-love, even though she’d tested those waters, too. But they’d both quickly figured out they were meant to just be friends. That was happening to Jenna a lot these days. “I appreciate you making time for this.”
Nelson was one busy guy. He worked at the local doctor’s office as an assistant and office manager. He was also a shaman-in-training for his tribe. The tribe’s rule against interracial dating had made a relationship between them impossible, even if there had been chemistry.
Nelson would make a great shaman, Jenna thought. There was just something about him, a centered-ness. When she was a kid, she and one of her step-sisters, Lillith, had discovered a secret place on Lillith’s grandpa’s farm, one they’d returned to every chance they got. A copse of trees surrounded a quiet stream fed by an underground spring. Jenna had loved that stream for its calmness, clarity and constancy. Hanging out with Nelson always reminded her of that place and dipping her toes into the sun-dappled water.
“No problem. I’m glad to do this for you,” he said. “The clinic’s been slow but with the weather change, we’ll get busier,” he said. “How are you?”
It was one of those questions people asked without caring about the answer. But Nelson really wanted to know.
Had it been anyone else, Jenna would’ve given them a pat answer. But this was Nelson. “I’ve had a touch of the funk,” she said.
While she explained her theory behind feeling unsettled, Nelson reached inside his jacket and pulled out an animal-skin pouch. Squatting on his haunches, he placed it on the floor, unfolded it and pulled out what looked like a seriously oversized cigar. It was actually a bundle of sage tied with string.
Jenna had asked Nelson to “smudge” her new building to clear any negative energy before Sven and his crew started on the interior. It was a native tradition Nelson performed regularly at the clinic, cleansing the space. And Jenna wanted as much good energy in her own place as possible.
She and Nelson walked to the farthermost corner of the building. He struck a match and held the flame to the end of the bundle until it began to burn. Smoke curled into the air and he spoke a few prayers, raising and lowering the sage stick at the same time.
“I don’t know,” she concluded once he’d finished. “You ever feel like things are going right but something just feels off?”
He peered at her, seeming to see some place inside her. Nelson had a way of doing that. She was pretty sure it was that shaman thing he was training for. “Yes?” he said.
They leaned against the back wall, the scent of burnt sage wafting around them.
“I can’t quite put my finger on it,” Jenna said. “I love living here. Even though I have a business in Marietta, it’s never felt the same as this.” She held out her arms to the empty room and circled slowly. “This is my home. How cool is that? So why do I have this … I don’t know how to describe it.”
“Kind of an empty spot inside?”
“Well, yeah. Maybe a little.”
“Perhaps you are ready to find your mate.”
“No. You can take that back to the drawing board. I’m just peachy keen on my own.”
She’d been a strike-out queen when it came to relationships. That, however, was no small wonder considering both her parents’ track record. If she rolled with the whole concept of genetics, neither of her parents seemed to possess the ability to successfully settle down. Apparently it was a defect she’d inherited. So she’d been cautious, determined not to bounce from relationship to relationship. She’d been holding out for something special.
However, at this point, she figured she probably qualified as the world’s oldest virgin. Still, she wasn’t about to rush into anything just for the sake of saying she had a boyfriend or that she’d done it. She wanted it to mean something. She refused to be a conquest, or worse yet, simply an available warm body in a bed.
“But I think a relationship is what you’re missing.” Nelson could be quietly persistent. And they both knew he didn’t mean a relationship between the two of them.
She loved Nelson and most of the time he got it right but not this time. Nope. She finally had what she’d wanted her entire life—stability and a sense of belonging. She eyed Nelson. “I think you’re projecting.