Melanie frowned. “You aren’t going to give me an inch, are you?”

Vince knew the moment he’d lost the battle, which was the second their gazes met. Her nose wrinkled, making the smattering of freckles dance on her cheeks. He couldn’t keep his gaze away from them.

“Well?” she demanded when he didn’t answer her.

“Well?” he repeated. “What?”

“I can put the office back the way it was—which, for the record, was completely messy and disorganized, in case you hadn’t noticed.” The frown that followed her comment wasn’t, Vince thought, completely convincing.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” From the look in her eye, he thought she just might. That made him smile.

Then again, she might be teasing him, although he couldn’t be certain. She was hard to figure out. Whatever else was to be said about Melanie Frazer, she was nothing if not interesting.

And determined.

And absolutely beautiful.

DEB KASTNER

lives and writes in colorful Colorado with the front range of the Rocky Mountains for inspiration. She loves writing for the Steeple Hill Love Inspired line, where she can write about her two favorite things—faith and love. Her characters range from upbeat and humorous to (her favorite) dark and brooding heroes. Her plots fall anywhere in between, from a playful romp to the deeply emotional.

Deb’s books have been twice nominated for the RT Book Reviews Reviewer’s Award for Best Book of the Year for Steeple Hill.

Deb and her husband share their home with their two youngest daughters. Deb is thrilled about the newest member of the family—her first granddaughter, Isabella. What fun to be a granny!

Deb loves to hear from her readers. You can contact her by email at DEBWRTR@aol.com, or on her MySpace or Facebook pages.

A Colorado Match

Deb Kastner

“My son,” the father said, “you are always with me, and everything I have is yours.”

—Matthew 15:31

For Joe

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Vincent Morningway leaned heavily on his crutches, attempting—not entirely successfully—to write coherently with one hand, keep the telephone to his ear with the other hand and not completely lose his balance and pitch straight down on his backside. He sighed as he finished his call and dropped the receiver back in the cradle. Stupid crutches.

Stupid cast.

Stupid skiing accident.

He’d unknowingly skied over a patch of hidden ice and had catapulted into a tree. He supposed he ought to be thankful that his injuries weren’t any worse than a broken leg and a slight concussion; but at the moment, he didn’t feel very blessed.

The whole incident still frustrated him every time he thought about it—which was every time he tried to move.

Growing up in the Rocky Mountains, he’d been skiing almost as long as he’d been walking. Didn’t it just figure that the one day a year he allowed himself some downtime to get away from the lodge and pursue an activity he was passionate about, he had to go and get hurt.

Even without his injury, he was already angry at himself for taking time off at all, what with the recent fire that had laid waste to the day care on Morningway Lodge property. Pop and Nate, Vince’s interfering younger brother, had ganged up on him, insisting he not cancel his plans.

So much for heeding Nate’s advice, he thought sardonically. Ever since they were children, Nate had always managed to get Vince into trouble, yet another instance of an entire lifetime of strife between him and his brother.

Vince was still frowning when the bell over the front door suddenly rang out. He glanced up, adjusted his rectangular black glasses and pasted a polite smile on his face. No matter how out of sorts he was, he still had a job to do. People depended on him, and no matter how he felt, he would not let them down.

A petite redhead whisked in and delicately stamped her feet on the mat just inside the front door, then brushed her free hand down her slim blue skirt. In her other arm she firmly clutched a black leather satchel. She was wearing some kind of spiky high-heeled shoes, which Vince privately thought wasn’t the best idea, given that there were several inches of snow on the ground.

What kind of woman made such an obviously foolish judgment call? Either she was brand-new to Colorado, or simply too stubborn to give up her heels for something practical. If he’d had to guess, based on the determined look in her eyes, Vince would have to go with the latter.

“It’s freezing outside,” she commented as she tossed her mop of unruly, shoulder-length red curls with a tart flip of her chin. She had large, copper-penny eyes and an engaging smile, and she carried such an aura of untapped energy about her in the way she moved that she made him tired just watching her.

After she was satisfied she’d removed all the snow from her shoes, she glided toward the desk, so lightly that it seemed to Vince her feet barely touched the ground, and yet her riotous curls continued to bounce around her shoulders.

“I’m Melanie Frazer.”

Her smile widened, if that were possible, showing two perfectly straight, dazzling lines of white teeth. A Garfield grin, Vince thought; a smile that was at once so confident and friendly that it lit up the entire room, but which carried just the slightest hint of mischief. She thrust her hand forward to shake his, and then pursed her lips thoughtfully as her gaze dropped to his crutches.

All at once, she scrunched up her face so that the freckles brushing her nose and cheeks seemed to dance and snatched her hand back before Vince had the chance to move at all, much less make any kind of awkward attempt to shake hands with her, given his crutches.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize you…” She let the rest of her sentence drop off as her brow knit even further. “I imagine it’s probably difficult for you to shake hands with anybody right now.”

It was an obvious statement, but also a thoughtful one, Vince thought. Most people wouldn’t have considered how unwieldy his crutches made his movements, especially ones that required the use of his hands.

Or walking, but that was a different matter. He hoped he wouldn’t have to embarrass himself by hobbling around where she could see it, given how clumsy he was with the clutches. Whatever the learning curve was on these things, it was too high for Vince.

The woman shrugged, almost as if she’d been reading his thoughts. As quickly as her disconcerted expression had appeared, it was gone in a blink; replaced by the same pretty smile she’d shown him earlier, so honest and genuine that it reached her lustrous eyes.

“Melanie Frazer,” she repeated, emphasizing each syllable slightly, as if he were hard of hearing. Her right eyebrow lifted and lowered. She was staring intently at him, clearly expecting…

Something.

He didn’t know what she wanted. Or who she was, for that matter, although she clearly thought he should.

He’d already checked the register for guests arriving today, and her name wasn’t on it. She could be a passing traveler who mistook the lodge for a bed and breakfast, which happened from time to time, but Vince didn’t think so. He had the impression that maybe she was about to attempt to sell him something, although she had offered no more than her name.

“BBS. Boulder Business Services?” she prompted.

Vince shook his head, but Melanie’s statement reaffirmed his notion that she was some sort of salesperson. However, she wasn’t acting like this was a cold call. She was clearly under the impression that he should know what she was talking about, but he didn’t have a clue. As far as he could recall, he had never heard of her company before.

It occurred to him that someone at some other lodge might be waiting for her. In her defense, there were several establishments tucked along the highway, although most of them were closer to Estes Park.

Still, it was a stretch to believe she’d made such an error, given the fact that Morningway Lodge wasn’t exactly right off the highway. More like off-off, built privately, farther into the woods. And she was acting so completely and utterly sure of herself that Vince wondered if his own judgment was a little off-kilter.

He shook his head again. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know who…”

She leveled her gaze at him and cut him off. “The sign outside says Morningway Lodge.” She indicated the direction with a tiny jerk of her chin.

“Yes, but—”

“And you are Vincent Morningway.”

It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway.

“Perfect,” she said, nodding back at him and placing her hands palms down on the front desk. “Then I’m definitely in the right place.”

Vince adjusted his weight on his crutches and leaned back. He had the oddest impression that she was invading his personal space, even though all five feet three inches of her was still standing on the opposite side of the counter. This had to be the most unusual conversation he’d ever had, and it was definitely the most remarkable. To say he was confused would have been an understatement.

The bell rang again, crashing into Vince’s thoughts. His gaze automatically flashed toward the front door. His younger brother, Nate, burst through, his face flushed from the cold bite of the outdoor air and his breath heaving as if he’d been running.

“Ms. Frazer,” he stated, jogging up to Melanie. “I’m Nate Morningway. And I’m so sorry that I’m late.”

The man who approached Melanie was clearly military—or rather, ex-military, as his hair was growing out and he had a day’s worth of stubble on his cheeks. He looked years younger than Vince, although the two were clearly related, both with strong, chiseled facial features, firm jaws and similar muscular builds.

Nate reached for her hand and pumped it vigorously.

“Gracie—that’s my baby girl—apparently took my car keys off the table when I wasn’t looking.” He grinned self-deprecatingly. He seemed to be the type of man who relied upon his inherent charm to get him where he needed to go. Not like his brother, Vince, who, even upon their short acquaintance, struck Melanie as somewhat stiff and unyielding.

“I guess I left the keys too close to the edge,” Nate continued. “I looked for them, but for all I know, they’re in the bottom of Gracie’s toy box. Anyway, I finally gave up the search and decided to jog over to meet you. It’s only a mile or so.”

Melanie chuckled, half at the humorous story Nate was relating, and half in relief that someone actually knew who she was and, by extension—hopefully—why she was here. Vince’s bewilderment and the odd way he had reacted when she’d mentioned her name and the company she worked for had thrown her off a little bit.

“I’m the guy who hired you,” Nate explained.

“My file says my services are for Vincent Morningway,” she stated, a little confused.

Her hand tightened on her satchel. She was prepared, as she always was upon embarking on a new project, and she knew she wasn’t wrong about this. Vincent Morningway. Morningway Lodge. Built to accommodate families of those recuperating at a nearby physical rehabilitation hospital, she recalled from the research she’d done.

“Yes,” Nate agreed easily, and then poked a thumb toward Vince. “That’s him. Vince Morningway—my older brother,” he said in a teasing tone of voice.

“Vince,” Nate continued as a formal introduction, “this is Melanie Frazer. She’s going to be your new business consultant. She’s here to—”

“Excuse me?” Vince interrupted, sounding exasperated. “Give me some frame of reference because I don’t know what you’re talking about. What did you do this time, Nate?”

At first Melanie thought Vince had taken offense at Nate’s off-the-cuff jesting, but upon reflection, she decided it was more than that. Vince’s words were no less than an accusation, and sounded strained and harassed. Melanie’s gaze immediately switched to his direction.

Vince was glaring daggers at his brother, and the muscle in the corner of his jaw twitched rhythmically, a probable indication that he was genuinely annoyed with Nate.

“What did you do this time?” Vince demanded.

For some reason Vince’s change in demeanor struck Melanie as odd and out of character for him. It was a complete turnaround from her initial assessment. He’d appeared fatigued, maybe, but not cross. He’d been perfectly polite with her, and his gaze was kind.

As was her habit—possibly a bad one—she had already formed an opinion about the man she’d be working with. She’d had too much personality profiling training, she supposed.

The first thing she’d noticed when she’d entered the lodge was how endearingly disheveled Vince looked. Although his smile was strained at the corners, his bright blue eyes were clear and friendly. His sports coat was several years out of style, and his hair looked like he’d combed it with a firecracker.

Dark brown hair tumbled over his brow, and Melanie noted the single streak of silver coursing through it, a telltale sign as to how stressed and overworked the man really was; that, and the lines of fatigue that marred his brow, only slightly concealed by his rectangular black-rimmed glasses, probably the only contemporary piece of his entire wardrobe.

Still, he was a good-looking guy, all things being equal. And if nothing else, his currently tousled appearance was a clear indication of how useful her services could be for him—or rather, for Morningway Lodge.

“I can help you,” she assured him.

Obviously his younger brother thought as much, or he would never have hired her. Vince simply didn’t yet comprehend what her business could do for his business. In her experience, a few simple changes in one’s business practices could translate to a substantial savings in both time and money—the investors’, the family’s bottom line.

On BBS’s intake form for Morningway Lodge, presumably filled out by his brother, she’d discovered that Vince didn’t use a computer—for anything. Not even his financials. Given that information, she guessed he probably didn’t even know what a smartphone was, never mind how to use it to improve his business practices. Talk about the dark ages.

“This is going to be good for you,” Nate insisted, and Melanie had to agree.

Melanie was about to spread some serious light into Vince’s world, like the sunshine breaking through the clouds after a storm. All it would take her was six short weeks and a little cooperation from Vince.

Mentally, she ticked off the most crucial items, knowing she would make copious to-do lists as soon as she’d taken a real look around, her being a perfectionist and all. She would organize his workspace and streamline his paperwork, mostly onto computer spreadsheets, saving him an enormous amount of time in the long run. She would show him how to enter his financials on a computer, giving him greater accuracy as well as saving him time. If she thought it would help him, she’d introduce him to a smartphone, or at least a digital organizer.

“I’m not inclined to anger,” Vince said, his brow furrowed. He wasn’t going to make this easy for her, but tough cases were her specialty.

She sighed inwardly. She suspected Nate had sprung this idea on Vince with no forewarning, and she couldn’t blame him for his annoyance and confusion.

That being said, she could do without the extra hassle of trying to justify what she was here to do for him, or else face the serious possibility of losing this account entirely—not a good way to get a promotion in her company.

Patience wasn’t exactly one of her virtues. She wasn’t the type to sit still and wait, especially with a very attractive promotion—which she’d worked hard for—just one project away. This one last assignment and then she’d have the luxury of a cushy desk job. The director of operations position was hers.

It was so close she could taste it.

If she fixed the problems at Morningway Lodge.

She had the sneaking suspicion that Vince Morningway wasn’t going to make it easy on her.

Chapter Two

Vince was livid. Nate was grinning as smugly as the proverbial cat that had eaten an entire cage of canaries, and Melanie was staring at Vince as if he were her next challenging project.

Which he wasn’t. He was already shaking his head to the contrary.

“Just hear her out,” Nate appealed earnestly, which only served to make Vince even more stiff-necked about whatever was going on. If it was Nate’s idea, it was a bad one. He didn’t need Melanie to explain that to him.

“Boulder Business Services,” Melanie said, jumping in on the tail of Nate’s comment, “offers consulting services to businesses ranging from small family-owned operations, to large corporate entities. I can assure you we’re the best firm in the business, and of course I can offer you a list of references if you’d like.”

Not necessary.

He didn’t need references because she wouldn’t be working here. He was convinced this was just another one of Nate’s shenanigans meant to get on Vince’s nerves, and it wasn’t going to work. Not this time.

For Melanie’s sake, he would be polite, but only until he figured out a way to turn her down without hurting her feelings. She seemed to be a nice enough woman, and it infuriated him that Nate would put her in the middle of their feud without regard to her point of view.

“Consulting?” he asked aloud, stalling for time while he thought of a solution to this problem.

“From what I’ve read in my file, you are a bit behind the times in some of your business practices,” she explained, her voice gaining momentum as she got into her subject, about which she was clearly enthusiastic. “First we’ll deal with the smaller organizational issues within your office, like your desk and filing system. Then I’ll help you streamline the majority of your work onto your computer, which will do wonders in regard to running your office more efficiently.”

She smiled confidently, first at Vince, then Nate, then back to Vince again. “I’m here to bring your business into the twenty-first century.”

Surely she must be aware that she sounded like a television infomercial. He wasn’t buying any of it; but if he was, her charming, toothy grin would be mighty persuasive.

What did that even mean, bringing his business into the twenty-first century? Did he really look that out of touch to her? Some hermit hiding in the woods?

And what was up with Nate, springing this woman and her consulting business on him and then waiting for him to work out the details?

Vince narrowed his gaze on Nate for a moment before he turned a polite smile on Melanie. “I appreciate your offer, but I don’t need any help. I run the business just fine on my own, thank you.”

“All on your own,” Nate qualified.

Vince didn’t say anything because family business was family business, but he thought the pointed, eyebrow-arching, And-why-would-that-be? look he gave Nate would be enough to put him in his place.

After all, it was Nate who’d irresponsibly ran off after high school, joined the Marines and left Vince alone to run the lodge by himself. He’d been left to cope with everything alone, and it was because of Nate.

Nate visibly winced and smiled sheepishly, and then nodded, silently acknowledging his faults. At least he had the good grace to realize how ironic his statement had been. Even so, as much as Nate might be helping out around the lodge recently—now that he’d supposedly returned home for good—Vince didn’t think it would last. Not with Nate. He couldn’t trust his brother as far as he could throw him—although he could still throw him.

“You won’t let Pop and me hire you a personal assistant,” Nate explained.

“Because we can’t afford it,” Vince said, becoming weary of this whole conversation, and wishing Melanie wasn’t present to hear any of it. He wasn’t the kind of man to air his dirty laundry publicly, be it family or business; and he found it rather humiliating that Nate heedlessly seemed determined to do just that.

“What would be the point? Why should I hire someone to do what I can do all by myself?”

“Says you,” countered Nate. “How long do you think you can keep up this pace all by yourself?”

Vince leveled a look on him. “As long as I have to.”

“You’re running yourself ragged,” Nate insisted, adamantly shaking his head.

“I have to agree with Nate,” Melanie chimed in.

Of course she did. Everyone always agreed with Nate. But this was none of her business, and Vince wanted to keep it that way.

“Look,” he said, making an awkward placating gesture that was cut short by his crutches, “No offense, Melanie, but your services really aren’t needed. I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing.”

Melanie leaned as far over the counter as her short frame would allow.

“I think Nate is right,” she repeated, as if Vince hadn’t heard her the first time around. “I really think I can help you.”

What was with everyone? He was being none-too-gently coerced into a corner and he knew it. They had his arm behind his back, figuratively speaking, and now they were starting to twist it tight.

Nate, Pop and now Melanie. He couldn’t argue with everyone.

But he had to try. And he knew just how to do it.

“We don’t have the money.” The lack of working capital was the basis for his original argument, and he decided he would stick with it.

Melanie wasn’t going to work for free.

“This is a ministry, not a multimillion-dollar corporation. The families of patients rehabilitating at the RMPR Hospital have enough to deal with without the burden of having to stay at an overpriced hotel.”

He saw the corners of Melanie’s lips turn down just slightly, and only for a second, but he knew he’d said something she didn’t want to hear. Probably that she wasn’t going to get paid.

“Good grief,” Melanie muttered under her breath. Or at least that was how it sounded to Vince.

“Sorry, bro,” Nate said with a laugh. “We’ve already thought of that—the money part of it, I mean. That’s why you’re getting a business consultant and not a personal assistant. This is a one-time thing, and I’m footing the bill for it out of my own savings.”

Vince wasn’t happy, and he wasn’t the least bit convinced about any of this, but with each passing second, it was becoming more difficult to find a way out of the predicament.

He sighed. “One day? One week? What?”

“One time,” Melanie corrected. “The entire process should take about six weeks, give or take.”

“Don’t be so hardheaded,” Nate said. “Will you just for once take something that someone is giving you and not put up such a fuss about it?”

Melanie gave a clipped little nod. Vince thought she might be agreeing with Nate.

Again.

“I don’t have the time,” he argued. “As you pointed out, my leg is in a cast. It’s going to take me longer to do things, even without having Melanie…here,” he finished lamely. He had been going to say underfoot, but that seemed a little too blunt, even for him.

“Make time,” Nate countered.

“And if I say no?” Vince knew it sounded like a taunt, and he was immediately convinced he shouldn’t have asked the question at all. Nate was gloating.

“I’ll force you. I’ve already paid the bill up front. You wouldn’t stiff me like that, would you?” Nate offered up his most placating smile.

Vince lifted an eyebrow and then shrugged. “You’re sure about that?”

“Maybe not, if it was just me,” Nate replied with a wicked smile. “But Pop agrees with me on this one. Give it up, bro. You’d better get used to the idea because you are officially out of options.”

Vince wanted to kick something, except that his leg was already in a cast and Melanie was still looking on. He could argue with Nate all day and night if he had to, but there was no way he would argue with his father.

The man was still in a wheelchair from a recent stroke, which was why Vince was doing all the work in the first place. Pop’s condition seemed to be improving now that Nate was home and had presented him with a granddaughter, but Vince didn’t want to take any chances with his father’s health.

Melanie cleared her throat and smiled, reminding the men of her presence.

Vince wanted to cringe. She’d been standing there the entire time, absorbing all this personal information about the two brothers without saying a single thing. How completely and utterly mortifying.

But she spoke now. “I promise I’ll make the process as painless as possible for you.”

“It’s for your own good,” Nate prodded.

Vince couldn’t stand Nate being the victor of this game, but neither could he see a way out of this predicament except by going through with it. And it was just like his brother to rub it in.

Vince had the uncomfortable inkling, like a wisp of cool air creeping up the back of his neck, that working with Melanie was going to be anything but painless. He sighed and, leaning heavily on his left crutch, pushed his glasses up his nose and scrubbed his fingers through his hair with his right hand.

His head hurt. His leg hurt.

And he’d officially been had.

Vince groaned and pulled up a three-legged stool, seating himself gingerly and leaning his elbows on the front counter at the main lodge. He wanted to cocoon himself in the back office, but there was no one at present to watch the desk. His leg was throbbing and itching and driving him crazy—but not as much as the woman determined to make his life easier.

He didn’t know how he was going to get any work done. He’d never been so distracted in his life. He sat for a good ten minutes staring at the same piece of paper and then realized he hadn’t yet read a word of it.

He kept thinking about Melanie. And it wasn’t just about the enormous disturbance she was going to create in his admittedly clutter-filled life over the next few weeks.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw a brilliant copper-eyed gaze, red curls and a freckled nose. Even the cute little quirk of her right eyebrow came to mind, and he didn’t know why.

Melanie Frazer was going to be nothing but trouble.

Worse yet, Nate had offered her a room at the lodge so she wouldn’t have to commute from Boulder. With Vince’s luck, she’d be tailing him everywhere, at all hours of the day. At the very least, he knew she was foaming at the mouth to get started organizing him. His shoulders tensed just thinking about it. He was a private person. His stuff was his stuff.

Scowling, he reached for the next stack of papers and stared unseeingly at the one on top. The bell over the front door rang, and he pulled in a breath and held it as he looked up, knowing it was going to be Melanie. Both a smile and a frown wrestled in his expression.

“I thought you might be hiding,” she teased as she brushed curls from her eyes with the palm of her hand. At least she had dressed more sensibly today, in khaki pants and a chocolate-brown sweater that complemented her eyes.

More to the point, she was wearing a pair of hiking boots—new ones, he judged thoughtfully. They’d probably give her a blister or two as she broke them in, but they were still better than high heels by a mile.

“What would be the point?” Vince’s smile was winning the war against the frown, despite his annoyance at Nate for getting him into this situation in the first place.

“Mmm,” she agreed, cocking her head to one side as she studied him. “Sensible man.”

Vince cringed inwardly, although he was careful not to let it show on his face. She was teasing him, of course, but the words hit home nonetheless.

A sensible man. He’d been called that before. It was practically his call sign. If he were charming and witty like his brother, he’d know how to handle a woman like Melanie, instead of tripping over his tongue—and his thoughts, for that matter—all the time.

Hogwash.

He didn’t want to be like Nate. He had enough to think about just being himself. He had a job to do, as did Melanie. And her job, the way he understood it, was to make a nuisance of herself. The sooner she realized he wasn’t the type of man to change things around on a whim, the better off they all would be.

It was as simple as that. Or not.

He reached for his crutches and hobbled to the door separating the front office from the main room. Melanie scrambled forward to help him hold the door, and then hovered near his elbow as he awkwardly hopped toward the furniture surrounding the central fireplace.

He didn’t know what she expected to be able to do if he lost his balance. A tiny little thing like her couldn’t possibly catch him from falling.

“The doctor says I have to keep this cast on for six weeks,” he said, trying for a conversational tone as he dropped to a seat on the sofa.

“It’s bright red,” she remarked, staring at his fluorescent cast.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a chuckle, thinking more of the color of her hair than of his cast. “They have all kinds of nifty colors to choose from these days.”

“Does it hurt?” She took a seat next to him on the couch and crossed her feet at the ankles.

“It itches. I’ll live. Six weeks, if I’m on good behavior.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The cast. I’ll get it off in six weeks.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding relieved. “For a moment there I thought you were talking about me.”

Vince shook his head. He was thinking about her, but he wasn’t talking about her.

“Good, because you’re not getting rid of me.”

She was almost as blunt and straight-to-the-point as he was, and it took him aback. He stared at her for a long moment, wondering if there was anything he could say to dissuade her from her purpose.

From the look on her face, not much. Unless, of course, he could convince her she was wasting her time.

Which shouldn’t be that hard to do, all things being equal. His daily life was anything but glamorous; and really, having a cast on his leg wasn’t any huge hindrance to the mountains of paperwork on his desk that he had to tackle this afternoon. How exciting was that? She’d soon find that there was little she could do to remove the mind-numbing pace of running the lodge, and his business system, while not as up-to-date as she’d no doubt like to see it, worked for him.

More or less.

Maybe she would see he was hopeless and just leave him alone. His work—his life—could be summed up in three words: boring, tedious and dull. Okay, and maybe unsystematic, but certainly not chaotic.

For the tiniest moment he wished he had something exciting going on in his life, something that would spark the interest of a beautiful, successful woman like Melanie.

Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen. Besides, it was the lodge she was interested in—not him personally. He scoffed internally at his own foolish musings.

Better she learned the truth up front. And better he keep his mind where it belonged—on the lodge.

And not on a certain redhead.

Chapter Three

It was hard for Melanie to concentrate with Vince’s clear, blue-eyed gaze on hers. He was probably wondering what kind of valid help she could possibly be to him.

If he knew the truth, he’d be bolting out the door without looking back.

She was about to rock his life—or the business part of it, anyway. The thought made her smile inwardly, although she kept her expression carefully neutral as Vince sized her up as if she were some kind of competition to him, like players on the opposing sides of a field.

He really didn’t get that they were supposed to be teammates here. She was working for him, not against him, but she sensed it would take her a while to get that piece of information through his thick skull. He had been perfectly polite, of course, but she knew he didn’t want her there. No doubt he was thinking of the quickest and most efficient way to get rid of her.

Which wasn’t going to happen.

Nevertheless, she was relieved when he finally looked away. It disconcerted her to have him staring at her so intently, especially when he cocked his head and flashed her a secretive smile.

“So…” he began, and then let his sentence dangle uncomfortably.

“So?” she challenged. She tipped her chin up and met his reflective gaze again, ignoring how ill at ease it made her feel to do so.

“What am I supposed to do with you?” he mused aloud, tapping a finger on his chin, right over the charming dimple that divided his strong, square jaw.

“Simple. Let me help you. This process is going to go a lot easier for both of us if you step back and allow me to do my work.”

He stared at her a moment more before speaking. The expression on his face didn’t change, but the sudden spark in his eyes let her know something was afoot.

“Okay,” he said at last.

“Okay?” she repeated, completely in shock. After the scene yesterday, she hadn’t really expected him to give in so easily. Or give in at all, really. He’d seemed too stubborn to go down without a fight. And now he was conceding?

“Sure.” His gaze narrowed as he smiled, or smirked, more like. Something was definitely afoot in Vince’s mind, and Melanie knew she wasn’t going to like whatever it was. “I have some paperwork to do in the back office. Because I’m short on help today, you can cover the front desk for me.”

“What?” she said, tempering her voice so it didn’t become tight and shrill.

The man was thoroughly exasperating. His eyes retained that amused spark, and the left corner of his lip completely betrayed him when it twitched upward oh so slightly. He was acting remarkably smug.

Did he think he’d won this round?

Well, then, he’d better just think again. She knew what he was up to. She arched her brow, her mind racing. Due to the restrictions laid on him by his family, he couldn’t turn her away outright.

But if she quit on her own? That would be an entirely different proposition now, wouldn’t it?

He was trying to annoy her on purpose—which would only work if she reacted as he expected her to do. It was, she realized, going to be a remarkably simple thing to turn the tables on him.

“All right, I’ll do it,” she said, smothering a smile. He wanted to play? She was all in.

He stared at her, looking unconvinced. His smug little smirk turned into a cute little frown, furrowing his brow under the top rim of his glasses.

“Really,” she assured him as she stood and walked to the door to the front office. She opened it, gesturing for him to enter before her. “I’m guessing the front desk could use some of my organizational finesse. It’s as good a place to start as anywhere. Once you see my work, I know you’ll change your mind about me.”

Vince shook his head and then nodded, looking a little bit dazed. Then, without a word, he pulled himself to his feet with his crutches and hobbled past her. He looked back only when he’d reached his office door.

“I’m warning you. You’re going to get bored. Fast. There’s really nothing to this job but waiting on the guests if they have questions or need extra towels. This time of day it’s usually deathly quiet around here.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she answered. “Quiet is good. It will give you the chance to sit down and rest that leg of yours, and for me to get some work done.”

Vince frowned. “This isn’t going to matter, you know. It’s only a matter of time before you realize your efforts are futile.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” she said, twirling her finger to indicate he should turn back toward his office. “Now. You. Go. Sit.”

Vince couldn’t argue with Melanie. He didn’t really want to argue with her, when it clearly wasn’t going to make a bit of difference. He sat down in his comfortable black leather office chair, resting his head back and pressing over his eyes with his palms. He was getting a tremendous headache, but as he had told Melanie, he had a lot of paperwork to do. With a tired sigh, he leaned forward, opened a ledger and then, for a good ten minutes, rhythmically tapped a pencil against the smooth oak of his desktop.

At this rate he would accomplish nothing. She was already disrupting his routine, and she really hadn’t even started meddling yet. How was it going to be when she was standing over his shoulder, analyzing his business practices and criticizing his every move?

He closed his eyes, willing himself to concentrate on the paperwork in front of him. If he could just center his thoughts, he might be able to get something constructive finished; but that wasn’t likely to happen, especially because he could hear Melanie bustling about the front desk.

He couldn’t imagine what she was finding to do that was making so much noise. He couldn’t stand it any longer. Using his desk for leverage, he propped himself up and shuffled out to the front office. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to walking with the crutches, and he knew he must look ridiculously awkward and inept.

Heat rushed to his face, and he frowned. He wasn’t usually so self-conscious. It wasn’t like him at all. These new, confusing feelings had arrived along with Melanie, and he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

Melanie whirled about when she heard him, and for just the slightest moment, her breathtaking copper-colored eyes were wide and blinking, as if he’d caught her in some kind of mischief. It was enough to cause him to hesitate momentarily.

But the startled look was gone, replaced by the self-possessed demeanor he’d already started associating with her personality. Maybe he was imagining things.

“Ta-da!” she announced, sweeping her hand to indicate the front desk area.

“Wow,” Vince said, giving a low whistle as his gaze swept across the newly cleaned and organized desk. Every scrap of paper was neatly stacked, the date books were perfectly arranged and opened on the counter and the whole room smelled like some kind of lemon-scented furniture polish.

He hadn’t realized how messy he’d let the outer office become until he saw how much of a difference Melanie had made with it. Had the guests seen the same thing? Was he truly that disorganized?

Melanie reached for a tin that held a dozen pencils and pulled them out for his inspection. “See? I even sharpened the pencils for you.”

“You really didn’t need to do that,” he said gruffly, shaking his head.

“Yes, I did,” she countered. “I know this project wasn’t your idea, and I know you don’t want me here. Frankly, that knowledge doesn’t exactly make me want to jump for joy at being here either. But if you think you’re going to somehow coerce me into quitting, think again. I’ve got a major promotion riding on this assignment, and I’m not about to lose it because the two of us can’t work together. You’d better get used to me being around because I’m here for the duration.”

“Are you sure?” he prodded.

She frowned and propped her hands on her hips. “You aren’t going to give me an inch, are you?”

He wasn’t. Or at least he thought he wasn’t.

He knew the moment he’d lost the battle, which was the second their gazes met. Her nose wrinkled, making the smattering of freckles dance on her cheeks. He couldn’t keep his gaze away from them.

“Well?” she demanded when he didn’t immediately answer her. She sounded a little put out. Probably because he really wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying.

Those freckles…

“Well?” he repeated, feeling as lame as he knew he sounded. “What?”

“I can put the office back the way it was—which, for the record, was completely messy and disorganized, in case you hadn’t noticed. Everything I’ve done can be undone except for the pencils.”

Her right eyebrow twitched upward. “That is, unless you want me to break all the leads off them, which, at the moment, I’d be happy to do.” The frown that followed her comment wasn’t, Vince thought, completely convincing. It was more mischievous than anything.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” From the look in her eye, he thought she might.

Then again, she might simply be teasing him. He wasn’t certain of anything anymore, especially where Melanie was concerned. What he knew about women could fit on the tip of one of those pencils she had sharpened.

Whatever else was to be said about Melanie Frazer, she was nothing if not interesting.

And determined.

And absolutely beautiful.

What could possibly go wrong?

On her second day officially on the job, she was up and about early. The front desk was vacant; but then again, Melanie thought, it wasn’t yet eight o’clock in the morning.

Vince might not even be at his desk yet, although she suspected he would be. Despite their short acquaintance, she’d made abundant notes on the man, particularly in light of her revealing encounter with him the day before. He struck her as a bit of a workaholic.

And he was definitely set in his ways. Like solid concrete.

She eyed the bell on the front counter, and then decided she would simply let herself into the back and check Vince’s office to see if he was there. He probably wouldn’t be expecting her so early, and for some strange reason it gave her a bit of a rush to think that she might actually catch him off guard.

“Knock, knock,” she called as she simultaneously rapped twice on the half-closed door to Vince’s office. “Hello? Anybody here?”

She pushed the door open and stuck her head inside the office. Vince was sitting behind his desk, facing her. His expression was harrowed as he stared determinedly at the mountain of receipts towering on his desk. An ink-marked ledger was spread in front of him, and the fingers of his right hand were splayed across the numbers of an ancient-looking adding machine, which was spewing out mounds of ticker tape with an old-fashioned clickety-clack.

He looked up as if in a daze, that same stubborn lock of silver-streaked brown hair tumbling forward and his glasses slightly askew on his nose. He would be an attractive man, she thought, if he wasn’t being so difficult about everything.

It would be nice if he smiled once in a while. But of course, the moment their eyes met, his brow knit in consternation. It didn’t take a genius to realize he didn’t like her. Or at least, he didn’t like what she stood for.

Change.

“There was no one at the desk, so I just let myself in. I hope that’s okay,” she explained in her best business tone. She wasn’t going to let his crotchety manner get her down. She wanted to get an early start.

“Already,” he groaned. It wasn’t a question. He sounded annoyed. So much for second chances.

Too bad for him.

He obviously didn’t like it, not even after having been able to sleep on it. He clearly wasn’t in a better mood this morning, and she wasn’t doing backflips herself, but she had a job to do and a promotion to acquire. Today she was determined to get started—really started—with her work.

Because the sooner she started, the sooner she’d be finished—and she could get away from Vince, this rustic lodge and these horribly uncomfortable hiking boots, which she was wearing due to Vince’s questionable advice.

Just let him try to stand in her way.

She was prepared for him. She already knew what the first item on her agenda would be.

Gesturing toward the mountain of receipts in front of him on the desk, she asked, “So what are you doing?”

Vince rubbed the tips of his fingers against his temples and tightened his gaze on her. She knew he was deciding how much information to give her—or even if he wanted to answer the question at all.

After a moment, he dropped his hands back onto the desk and sighed. “I’m preparing the P&L and balance sheet for last month. I’ll admit it’s not my favorite part of this job, but it has to be done.”

“You’re working by hand?”

“Well, I’m not adding the numbers in my head, if that’s what you mean,” he said, tapping his fingers on the adding machine.

Melanie’s eyebrow arched as she pointed over his right shoulder to a closed laptop computer sitting on the pinewood credenza behind him.

“Have you ever heard of a computer?” she asked, trying to keep the edge from her voice. He really was behind the times. She wondered if he knew how much.

He shrugged. “The way I’ve got it figured, by the time I input all these receipts into the computer, I may as well have done it by hand.”

“That’s backward thinking,” she informed him. “Let me set you up with some computer spreadsheets. You’d be surprised at how much time they save you.”

“Not interested,” he snapped, gathering stacks of receipts and stuffing them in a manila envelope marked and dated for the previous month with a red felt-tipped pen.

Melanie wouldn’t be swayed. “It looks like your filing system could do with an overhaul as well.”

“Do tell.” He deliberately turned his back on her as he stuffed the manila envelope into a beat-up metal filing cabinet.

“Look, I know you don’t believe me, but give me the benefit of the doubt.” Give me a break, she thought, although she didn’t say it aloud.

Vince glanced at his watch. “How long is this going to take?”

He asked the question as if he expected her to simply file a single folder and be on her way, but she saw the telltale gleam in his eye. He was being intentionally difficult, and they both knew it.

“Weeks, Vince,” she said, suddenly tired. “This changeover is going to take weeks. Especially with the condition of your office,” she added, not realizing until the words were out of her mouth that the remark sounded like a personal jab, when she was really only stating the facts.

“I was planning to start my work today,” she continued hurriedly, trying to mask over her previous statement. “Right now, in fact. Unless that’s inconvenient for you.”

Chapter Four

She belatedly realized she shouldn’t have added that last part of the statement because he was going to grasp at any excuse he could to block her directive. With her response, she’d just unintentionally handed one right to him.

She was really going to have to watch her mouth around him, that was for sure. He was an intelligent and quick-witted man. He knew how to take it as well as he gave it. She definitely needed to be on her guard with this guy.

“As a matter of fact,” Vince jumped in, without missing a beat, “Jessica should be here any moment, so I’m afraid we simply won’t have time just now to start on your project.” He emphasized the last word just enough to make her want to grind her teeth.

“Jessica?” she queried, wondering if she was somehow supposed to recognize that name, and then deciding he was purposefully baiting her.

“Jessica is Nate’s fiancée,” he explained, his voice lowering and becoming a bit more gravelly.

His gaze deflected for the tiniest moment, and his lips twitched and one corner pinched together. She had the distinct feeling there was something going on behind the scenes in Vince’s mind, and she wondered what it was.

Probably how much he disliked what she was trying to do here. Or maybe how much he disliked what she stood for. Or, possibly the most likely scenario of all, how much he disliked her in general.

As if on cue, a pretty blond-haired woman with a wiggling baby bundled in her arms came sweeping in the door of Vince’s office. If she was surprised to see that Vince was not alone, she didn’t show it. She flashed Melanie a shy but genuinely friendly smile and turned her gaze toward Vince.

“I hope it’s okay that I brought Gracie along,” Jessica said, propping the baby in an empty chair to remove her snowsuit. “Nate had to go to Denver for a couple of days to get some supplies for the lodge.”

Vince’s brow creased for just a moment, but once his gaze alighted on the baby, he was all smiles.

As soon as baby Gracie was free of the restrictive clothing, she wiggled around onto her tummy and scooted off the edge of the chair, kicking her legs as she dangled. Melanie didn’t know if she’d ever seen a more adorable baby than the curly-haired little girl; especially when Gracie reached the floor, propped herself into a standing position using the chair for balance, and gave her Uncle Vince a full, cheeky eight-toothed grin.

Vince chuckled and came around the desk, giving the baby a big, smacking kiss on the cheek. “You know I’m always happy to have Gracie here.”

He turned to Melanie. “Nate is adopting Gracie, so she’s my niece.”

The woman smiled at Melanie. “I’m Jessica Sabin, by the way. I’m the day care director here at Morningway Lodge. Or at least, I was. In the interim, I’m working behind the front desk.”

She paused and gave Vince an encouraging smile. “But I’m sure that won’t be for long. The ministry the Morningways do here for the families of patients staying at the RMPR Hospital can’t be replaced, but buildings sure can be. God will bless us.”

“He will,” Vince agreed.

Melanie was keenly aware of her sudden, involuntary intake of breath, and she tensed, hoping the other two hadn’t heard it. She’d already heard Vince refer to Morningway Lodge as a ministry, so she supposed she should have been prepared for it, but God talk, as she thought of it, made her incredibly uncomfortable, bringing to mind other times and other situations she would rather not dwell upon.

“And,” Vince continued, thankfully not appearing to notice the change in Melanie’s demeanor or breathing pattern, “Jessica forgot to mention she’s the local heroine around here. She rescued several children, and even Gracie here, from the fire at the day care center. There would be a lot of grieving parents, my brother included, if it were not for her brave efforts.”

Melanie studied the woman with renewed interest. Her gaze had dropped to her feet and she was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Jessica might be a local celebrity, but if the bright pink stain on her cheeks was anything to go by, Melanie thought the poor woman must not care much for the spotlight Vince was beaming her direction.

“I’m Melanie Frazer,” she said, knowing how uncomfortable she felt when Vince put her on the spot, and wanting to give Jessica a way out of it. “My life story is not nearly as glamorous as yours, but I’m glad to meet you. I’ll be staying at the lodge for about six weeks, so I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other around.”

“Oh?” Jessica asked. “I assumed you were a new employee, since you’re in the back office and all.”

Vince barked out a dry laugh. “Hardly. Melanie is the business consultant Nate hired for me.”

When Vince turned away, Jessica rolled her eyes at Melanie in silent woman-to-woman communication. Clearly she was aware of the animosity between the two brothers, but to Melanie’s surprise, Jessica didn’t try to defend Nate or push the tender subject with Vince.

“You said Nate took off again?” Vince asked with a huff, addressing Jessica, though his back was still turned on her. He whirled around, using one of his crutches to center himself and the other to keep from toppling over.

“Yes, he did. Why?” Jessica smiled patiently. She was being a lot more tolerant with Vince’s attitude than Melanie would have been, given the same circumstances.

He pushed his glasses up his nose and scoffed. “It figures.”

What was wrong with the man? Melanie thought. Something was certainly stuck in his craw and was eating him away. His Jekyll-and-Hyde disposition was unlike anything Melanie had ever run across in all her years on the job. What was underneath all that bluster?

Maybe that was exactly the question she needed to be asking. As far as her business services went, Melanie found it was helpful to get to know the person she was working for—although to be fair, that was not exactly applicable in this case, because Nate had hired her, and not Vince.

And Vince and Nate did not get along. That much was patently clear.

It was no wonder she and Vince had gotten off on the wrong foot, what with Nate bringing her in behind Vince’s back and without his knowledge.

But she thought it might be partially her fault things had gone downhill from there. Maybe she’d pushed him too fast in her hunger to get the job done. Maybe if she’d given him a bit more time to get used to the idea, they wouldn’t be butting heads so ferociously.

She couldn’t help but think maybe she could still turn things around for them and make their working relationship less contentious. If she could figure out a way to bridge the gap; and that was a big if.

“I was planning to visit the burn site tomorrow morning to see how the cleanup is going,” Vince told Jessica. “The youth group from the church is going to help, so I wanted to stop by and thank them. But I guess that won’t be happening because I won’t have Nate’s help. I can’t drive my truck with this stupid cast on. It’s a standard transmission.”

Melanie couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity—time with Vince, out of the office, visiting the grounds of a family business that was clearly important to him—even if he did resent the thought of change.

She cleared her throat to remind both Vince and Jessica that she was present, if not exactly part of the conversation.

“No problem. I’ll drive you.”

By mid-morning the next day, Vince and Melanie were on their way to the burn site. “The clutch is a bit sensitive,” Vince commented as the gears made a slight grinding sound when Melanie shifted from first to second gear. He gave her a sidelong glance out of the corner of his eye.

Her gaze was firmly on the road as she maneuvered the truck up a steep incline. From the way her forehead was creased and her lips were pursed, she was obviously concentrating ferociously.

That, or she was upset about something. It didn’t matter either way. Even with her face all scrunched up, she was one pretty lady. He couldn’t help but admire her from his peripheral vision.

As they crowned the hill and the blackened remains of the day care came into view, Vince’s focus immediately changed. His breath stung in his throat and he swallowed it back. He’d never get used to looking at the razed, utterly desolate land. He imagined it was a bleak sight even for Melanie, who had no vested interest in the place.

Even with the area teeming with life in the form of teenagers with garbage bags doing what they could to clean up the site, it was still heartbreaking to see. And while he appreciated all the help the youth groups from combined churches in the area were giving him, it was only a scratch on the surface of what needed to be done.

Vince closed his eyes. God was with him, and God was good, he reminded himself. No matter how stark the reality of the situation looked from a human perspective, God was in control. Vince had to believe that.

He did believe that.

It was a necessary reminder, and an internal conversation Vince used with himself on a regular basis, especially since the crisis with the day care.

Melanie hit a rut that bounced Vince out of his seat. He automatically reached for the bar over the door and braced himself, although the road wasn’t any worse than the usual winter washboard.

“Oh, dear,” Melanie said softly, as she cruised the rest of the way down the hill and parked the truck not far from the burn site. “I’m hurting your leg with my bad driving, aren’t I?”

Vince opened his eyes and turned his gaze toward her. She was staring back at him with wide, blinking copper-penny eyes and concern lining her face.

“Not at all. I’ve lived in the mountains all my life. A little washboard can’t hurt me.” Surprisingly, the smile he flashed her didn’t feel forced, even though his spirit had plummeted the moment they’d driven up to the site.

“Well, I’m sorry, just the same.”

“Don’t be,” he said softly.

“Who are all these teenagers?” she asked, clearly eager to change the subject.

“They are a combined youth group from some of the local churches. When they heard about the fire, they offered to help clean the debris.”

“For free?”

Despite his melancholy, he smiled. “That’s what Christians do. Support each other in times of need.”

She snorted. “Not in my experience.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise at the vehemence of her denial. “No?”

She shook her head fiercely but didn’t offer any details. He was reluctant to push her if she didn’t want to talk about it, but he was wondered what kind of Christians she’d been around to cause her to feel so much animosity.

“Jessica seems nice,” she commented, clearly eager to change the subject.

His smile faltered as a dark cloud briefly passed over his heart.

“What?” she asked. He wondered if that was concern and empathy on her face, or merely curiosity.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” He shook his head. He was not the kind of guy who liked to talk about it.

“You won’t tell me what you were thinking just now?” She was pushing him, but the words were spoken gently and with respect, and Vince suddenly found himself opening up, which was a revelation in itself.

“I was thinking about my mother,” he admitted hesitantly.

“Oh? Does she live here at the lodge?”

“She died when I was a teenager.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Vince assured her, shaking his head. “It’s just—”

He paused and pursed his lips. She didn’t speak, but her expression was open and caring, so he continued.

“My mom always fussed over Nate and me. Now Nate has Jessica to care for him. It makes me more aware than ever that I don’t have anyone like that in my life.”

“You’re lucky that you had her,” she whispered. “I never had anyone who cared enough to fuss over me. Not in my whole life.”

“No one?”

She looked away, her gaze taking on a distant quality. He hoped he hadn’t stuck his foot in his mouth and inadvertently hurt her with his words. He felt like a heel, and Melanie’s emotional withdrawal only highlighted his mistakes.

He noticed her hand was still resting on the gear shift. Her skin looked soft and delicate, reminding Vince once again that he shouldn’t make sweeping judgments about someone before getting to know them first. Holding his breath, he took what was maybe the biggest risk of his whole life—he placed his hand over hers.

He thought she’d probably pull away, but she didn’t. Instead she turned her hand over and squeezed his.

She’d obviously been through a lot in her lifetime, and he wondered why there’d been no one there to protect her and care for her. It went against every fiber of his being that someone or some circumstance had caused lasting inward scars on this outwardly beautiful woman, wounds that had stayed with her into adulthood. He silently prayed that her future would hold the love and peace she hadn’t found in her childhood.

She still wouldn’t look at him. The conversation had taken a much more personal tone than either of them had expected, and he sensed she was even more uncomfortable than he was with it.

He squeezed her hand one more time and, thinking to give her a moment of privacy in which to collect herself, he let himself out of the truck, struggling for a moment with his crutches before he found his balance.

As he approached what was left of the day care facility—which was nothing—Vince leaned heavily on his crutches and sighed. Despite the well wishes of the teenagers who approached him, he still felt the enormity of the burden before him. He’d come down with the intention of personally thanking the teens for all their assistance. Now he found himself wishing he could help them, even if it was just a little bit, and was frustrated by the fact that he was so confined by his stupid cast.

What was he going to do, kick around the ashes with his one good leg? A fat lot of help he was going to be.

He closed his eyes, wishing it all away. If only this were a bad dream and he would soon wake from his sleep. But of course when he opened his eyes again, nothing had changed.

Reality check.

The fire had consumed every inch of the building and every bit of the equipment that had been inside. It was all gone. Completely and utterly destroyed, turned into bags upon bags of worthless debris in the blink of an eye.

And yet it could have been so much worse, he re minded himself. He had much to thank God for.

None of the kids had been hurt. Or his brother. Or Gracie. Or Jessica.

People couldn’t be replaced. Buildings could.

Except in this case, Vince didn’t know when it would happen. Or more to the point, how. The ministry was barely making it financially as it was. There’d been no way to predict such a disaster, and even if he had, his budget constraints wouldn’t have been able to have changed much.

He sighed again and made absent circles in the ash with the end of one of his crutches. He heard Melanie exit the truck and slam the door shut, but he didn’t turn to look at her as she approached.

Instead, he closed his eyes once again, this time centering his heart on heaven and the throne of grace. Silently, he pleaded with God for the strength and wisdom to deal with this new trial.

Most of all, he prayed for the faith to believe God would get him through this, for he had never felt as utterly alone and abandoned as he did at this moment.

In his head, he knew he couldn’t let his feelings dictate his faith, but his heart was not so quick to catch up.

“What are you doing?” Melanie asked, abruptly putting an end to Vince’s agonizing prayer.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and turned to face her. “Praying.”

Her copper-penny eyes widened noticeably. “Seriously? I thought maybe you were looking for something there in the ashes.”

“In a way, I guess I was,” he answered with a twisted smile. “Guidance.”

Melanie shook her head. “Excuse me?”

“From the Lord.”

She didn’t look convinced. Her right eyebrow twitched upward in that compelling way she had, and then her eyes narrowed and she locked her gaze on him. He fought with a powerful urge to look away from her and, with effort, managed to maintain eye contact with her.

“I hope I don’t sound insensitive, but it seems to me this place needs a lot more than a prayer.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Vince replied softly, thinking of how little he could do. There wasn’t enough money to renovate, much less rebuild.

Her gaze widened, but she didn’t speak.

“As I can,” he continued. “When all is said and done, asking God for guidance is the first and most important thing I can—and should—do.”

And the only thing he could do right now, he added silently. He was out of options, humanly speaking, anyway.

“I’m curious,” she said, “what you think God is going to do for you. He didn’t stop the fire from happening. Why do you think He’s going to help you now?”

He winced internally, but hoped it didn’t show on his expression.

“You don’t sound like you believe in God,” he commented in a low tone. “Do you?”

Vince knew the exact moment Melanie shut down. He thought he glimpsed a moment of anger before the steel barrier dropped over her eyes and her expression became blank and neutral.

“If you mean the big guy in the sky who tosses out thunderbolts to fry all of us poor sinners every time we do something wrong, then no. I don’t believe in God.”

She tried to make it sound like a joke, but Vince didn’t buy that for an instant. She’d unconsciously crossed her arms in front of her and was standing defensively, whether she realized it or not. She clearly had unresolved issues in her life, but what that had to do with her belief in—or in this case, animosity toward—God, he couldn’t guess.

His heart hurt for her. Even with the awkwardness of his crutches and his cast, he very much wanted to reach out to her, maybe give her a reassuring hug, but something held him back. Maybe it was that he couldn’t quite let himself forget that she didn’t like him very much to begin with, and nothing they’d talked about recently would have done much to have changed her opinion about him.

He gripped the handles of his crutches until he’d tempered the need to comfort her, knowing it would probably only distress her further.

“This may sound a bit cliché, Melanie, but God is love,” he commented softly.

She snorted and shook her head adamantly. “Yeah. I’ve heard that before. I’m not buying.”

Vince wondered just what she had heard and from whom. Certainly she hadn’t been exposed to Jesus, the loving and forgiving Savior whose Spirit Vince carried within his own heart.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I haven’t been struck down by lightning yet. I guess that counts for something.”

There was no way to counter that statement—either yes or no would put him in equally hot water—so he changed the subject, vowing silently that by the end of the six weeks of their acquaintance, he would find out the truth about Melanie Frazer; and hopefully, he prayed, she would find out the truth about God.

“This is pretty much a disaster,” he said, gesturing across the piles of blackened ash with his crutch. “The truth is, I don’t have the money to rebuild.”

Brilliant. Not exactly the smoothest change of subject in the history of the world.

He only now realized how foolish it was to lay out his financial troubles out to the very person who’d been hired to change everything. He’d been thinking of Melanie as a woman and not as a business consultant, and hadn’t even considered that he might later come to regret what he was telling her.

Way to get in hot water.

Chapter Five

Melanie was quiet for a moment as her gaze lingered where Vince had pointed. The stark ruin called up something in her that made her throat tighten painfully. Maybe it was a sense of empathy for a man who’d clearly lost a great deal.

“I don’t understand,” she admitted softly. “I thought—that is, I was under the impression—that Morningway Lodge is very successful. Are you having problems attracting guests? I should think this idyllic mountain setting would have people clamoring to make reservations.”

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