“All of you are going to be that lucky, too,” the Crawford patriarch said. “You know, I had to be both mother and father to you boys. I didn’t always get it right. I guess I want just to see you all settled down and happy. I want you to have everything you deserve. All the happiness.”
Logan put a hand on his dad’s shoulder.
“To happiness,” Finn said, raising his beer. “I’m into it.”
“Even Knox can’t not toast to that,” Hunter said.
Xander eyed the always-intense Crawford brother. Knox raised his beer again with a bit of a scowl. Knox had thanked him for going out with Lily in his place, then had grimaced when Max Crawford said, “Now that you’re over being stubborn about it, there are a hundred more single beauties out there, Knox, ole boy.”
“First of all, I’m still not going out with anyone,” Knox had said. “Secondly, there probably aren’t a hundred people in this town, Dad,” he’d added, and had made himself scarce until he smelled the French dips.
Rust Creek Falls was tiny, less than a thousand residents, but nine hundred fifty of those had to be single women. Or at least that was how it had felt ever since Max Crawford had announced—erroneously!—that his six sons were looking for wives.
“Xander, you should probably make a reservation at the Manor for dinner now, just in case,” Max said with a grin. “Find out if your chef is working first, though.”
Xander got up, tossing his wrappers in the trash can. “I think I hear one of the calves calling for me.” He headed for the barn, the too-familiar sound of his brothers’ laughter trailing him.
His chef. Hardly!
“Mmm, mmm,” he heard his dad say as he rounded the barn. “This roast beef takes me right back to Texas. Coulda ordered it from Joey’s Roadhouse, am I right?”
Xander smiled. Told you. He’d been taken by surprise as bits and pieces of memories had popped into his mind while eating at the restaurant. Just flickers that he thought he’d forgotten: Logan threatening a bully on his behalf. Knox telling their dad off when he thought their dad was being unfair with Xander about something. The constant runs to the grocery store for milk since six growing boys could finish a gallon after one cold-cereal breakfast. Christmas after Christmas, each boy picking a brother’s name from the Santa hat to buy for, the three years in a row that he got Hunter.
His mother in a yellow apron.
Now it was his turn to scowl. He didn’t often think about his mom. He didn’t remember much about her, just maybe the thought of her. There were few pictures of Sheila Crawford in the family photo albums; he had no idea what his dad had done with the rest of them. Max had probably stored them up in the attic, leaving just a few for the boys to have some idea what their mother had looked like. Logan, Xander and Hunter remembered her the most but even they had been too young to hold a picture of her in their minds. Somehow, Xander did remember the yellow apron. And long brown hair.
A calf gave out a mini moo and he shook his head to clear his mind. All this thinking of home and his family’s ribbing him about “his chef” nicely contradicted each other. Thinking about his mother reminded him that marriage didn’t work out. That even the people you could count on to love you, by birthright, could leave. Just walk away without looking back. Between that and finding his girlfriend and best friend in bed, he gave a big “yeah right” to happily-ever-after.
“Yoo hoo! Anyone home?” a very female, high-pitched voice called out.
Xander came out of the barn to find an attractive, curvy blonde, just his type, he had to admit, smiling at him as she walked over from her car. “Hi, can I help you?”
“I’m so sure you can, honey,” she said, her voice lowering an octave. “I’m Vanessa and I was hoping to hire one of you tall, strong, strapping cowboys to teach me how to ride a horse. I’m a town gal, so no horse or land of my own.”
Xander knew there were plenty of horse farms and ranches in the area that offered riding lessons. The Ambling A wasn’t one of them.
He had a feeling this woman was here for a cowboy and had zero interest in horses, if her very high heels and short dress were any indication. But any woman in the market for a Crawford was looking for a wedding ring. So despite the fact that Vanessa was his type to a T, he’d have to sit this one out.
“Ah. We don’t offer riding lessons, but perhaps one of my brothers can give you the rundown on who does.”
“I’d be happy to hear it from you,” she said, puckering her glossy red lips a bit.
“I’m not really one of the eligible Crawfords,” he said.
She frowned. “I don’t see a ring. Unless you’re spoken for.”
Lily’s face flashed into his mind. His chef. That was weird. “Well, I do seem to be seeing someone, unexpectedly,” he added, for no godly reason. Then realized that was why Lily had popped into his brain. She was his way out!
“For goodness’ sake, why didn’t you say so and save me the trouble of flirting?” She fluffed her hair. “Any of your eligible brothers around?”
He smiled and mentally shook his head. A woman who knew she wanted. Had to give her credit for the chutzpah. “Let me see if Finn knows about riding lessons. Be right back.”
“Finn? I do like that name,” she said, peering around.
“Hang on a sec.”
He went around the back of the sprawling ranch house to find the Crawfords just finishing up. “Finn, there’s a woman here to see you.”
Finn perked right up. That was a line he liked. “Say no more,” he said before dashing around the house.
Xander smiled. That was easy. He went back into the barn and got down to work, ignoring the giggles coming from Vanessa as Finn flirted.
A flash of freckles and determined green eyes came to mind again. He should let Lily know his family loved the French dip, too, right? She’d probably appreciate hearing that. He could stop by the Manor and say it loud enough for her boss to hear; who couldn’t use a gold star at work from a happy customer?
Yeah. He’d stop by and let her know. A good friend would do that, and he had a feeling that was exactly what he and Lily were going to be: good friends. That was it. Sorry, Matchmaking Dad.
* * *
The Hunt house was a big white colonial not far from the center of town. Xander glanced up at the second-floor windows, wondering which room was Lily’s. He had a vision of himself standing out here at night, tossing pebbles at her window to get her to come out as if they were in high school or something.
Something about this very young woman had him all discombobulated.
He shook his head to clear it and rang the buzzer on the side of the blue door. He liked the color; it was a deep-sea blue that might be interesting for the barns at the Ambling A.
An auburn-haired guy in his midtwenties opened the door. One of Lily’s three brothers, he presumed. He had on a pristine Kalispell Police Academy uniform, including a cap.
“Hey, you’re one of those Crawfords,” the guy said, his hazel eyes intense on Xander.
“I am. Xander Crawford, specifically. I haven’t broken any laws, have I? I haven’t been to Kalispell yet.”
The guy scrunched up in his face in confusion, then glanced down at his uniform. “Oh, this. I’m on my way to school. Not a cop yet, but I will be in a few months.” He eyed Xander, then looked behind him into the house, then turned back. “Got a minute?” he asked. “I was hoping to run into one of you, but I’m rarely in town during the day.” He extended his hand. “Andrew Hunt.”
Okay,