In Search Of Dreams. Ginna Gray
last guests had checked out yesterday, and though most of the tourists who rented rooms from her were nice people, Kate had been happy to see them go. She was looking forward to the respite from the seven-day-a-week work schedule of running a bed-and-breakfast, as well as to her annual period of solitude.
Besides, she needed time to get the place winterized before the snows came in earnest. She had already begun spreading a thick layer of compost and mulch around the bases of the rose bushes that surrounded the house. There were also storm windows to hang, outdoor faucets to insulate, porch furniture to store in the garage.
When she was done with those chores she had to lay in a larger supply of food and art supplies and stock up on books and needlework projects and jigsaw puzzles—things to keep her occupied during the next five months.
Kate rattled around all alone in the big house in the winter, but she didn’t mind. Though she had not been born an introvert, out of necessity she had developed into one over the past four years. Now she had become accustomed to the winter solitude and looked forward to sleeping late and having only herself to please. Most of all, she looked forward to having her home to herself once again.
Kate had barely reached the house and put away her groceries and was passing through the foyer when she heard a vehicle coming up the road. She stepped outside onto the porch and shaded her eyes with her hand, wondering who it could possibly be. Other than Zach, who was in Arizona, and an occasional delivery or repair person, the only people who came to her door were tourists, and the season was over.
Probably just someone who was lost, she thought as the green Jeep Cherokee climbed toward her. Often a motorist got confused and took the spur road instead of following the highway north. Most quickly realized their mistake and backtracked, but a few ended up on the dirt road from town that led to her doorstep.
Kate crossed the porch to wait at the top of the steps. The Jeep came to a halt at the end of the walkway and a tall, dark-haired man climbed out.
“May I help you?” she inquired politely.
“I sure hope so.” He grinned at her over the top of the vehicle. Taking his time, he paused by the Jeep, hands planted on his hips, and drank in the spectacular panorama of snow-capped mountains all around and the picturesque Victorian town nestled in the valley below. When he’d looked his fill, he skirted the vehicle and started up the brick walkway, shaking his head. “Man, that’s some view.”
“Yes, isn’t it.”
Watching the man approach, Kate experienced an odd flutter in the pit of her stomach. With his dark good looks and lean build, the man exuded a potent masculine aura that was palpable even from a distance.
That sexy, loose-limbed saunter alone was enough to raise the coldest woman’s blood pressure. Oh, yes, he was a good-looking devil, she thought as he came to a halt at the foot of the porch steps. His features were strong and beautifully formed, chiseled just enough to save him from being pretty. No doubt he left a trail of palpitating female hearts in his wake wherever he went.
Judging from the way her own was thumping, Kate realized ruefully that she was no more immune than the rest of her sisters. Either that, or she’d been alone far too long.
The man placed one foot on the bottom step, and the faded denim jeans stretched taut over well-defined muscles. Bracing his hand on his thigh, he flashed her a disarming smile. “This is the Alpine Rose Bed-and-Breakfast, I hope?”
“Yes, it is. May I help you with something?”
“I need a place to stay.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid as of yesterday, the Alpine Rose is closed for the winter.”
“You’re kidding. I had no idea you weren’t open year-round.”
“There wouldn’t be much point. Tourists love this area during the other seasons, but since we don’t have a ski resort nearby, our harsh winters tend to keep them away.”
The man sighed and looked out over the town again. Then he turned back to her with a persuasive smile. It was pure practiced charm, Kate knew, but that didn’t stop her heart from giving a little kick when he turned those vivid blue eyes on her.
“Could I perhaps persuade you to make an exception for me?”
“I’m sorry—”
“No, wait. Before you say no, hear me out. I’m not looking for a room for just a night or two. I’d like to book a stay for at least six months.”
“Six months? Oh, I’m sorry, Mr.…”
“Conway. J. T. Conway.”
“Mr. Conway, I’m not running a boarding house. This is a first-class bed and breakfast. The people who stay here usually do so for only a few days.”
“I know, but what’s my alternative? The Miners’ Lodge? I stopped in there and had a look before coming here. No, thanks.”
Kate stared at him. He had her there. She wouldn’t wish that place on anyone. The Miners’ Lodge had been a brothel in the nineteenth century, and other than to change the sheets, she doubted the current owners had done anything to improve the cubbyhole rooms. They ran a pool hall and restaurant and bar in the downstairs. Occasionally they rented out one of the upstairs rooms—mostly to the young crowd who typically stayed in youth hostels. Those who sought elegance, comfort and good food came to the Alpine Rose.
“Mr. Conway, I’m doing you a favor by refusing. The elevation of the town is just over nine thousand feet. Our winters are brutal. We get snowed in for days at a time. Trust me, you would hate it.”
He pursed his lips thoughtfully and glanced down at the town. “Does anyone live in Gold Fever during the winter months?”
“Yes. There are about three hundred year-round residents.
“Do you stay through the winter?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m sure I can manage.”
“Mr. Con—”
“You don’t understand, Miss, uh…?”
“Kate Mahoney. I own the Alpine Rose.”
“Well, Miss Mahoney, solitude is exactly what I’m looking for. It won’t bother me a bit to be snowed in. You see, I’m writing a novel set in this area during the gold rush, and I really need to stay here to conduct my research and get the feel of the place.”
“I see. Nevertheless—”
“If you’re worried that I’ll be a lot of trouble, don’t. Most of the time I’ll be in my room writing, or down in town doing research and interviewing the old-timers around here. This is a big house. You won’t even know I’m here. I promise.”
Oh, she’d know he was there, all right, Kate thought. No woman under the age of ninety could fail to be aware of the presence of a man like J.T. Conway under her roof. Her feminine radar would pick him up even if she put him on the third floor in the old servants’ quarters.
Instinct told her that the smart thing would be to refuse his request. The man unsettled her, although she wasn’t sure why. It was more than merely his looks; she’d had good-looking men stay in her home before. But there was something about J. T. Conway…
She had every right to refuse. She needed a rest from looking after guests, and she was looking forward to a period of solitude and self-indulgence. When she had the house to herself she could take long bubble baths and sleep late and run around in sweats and socks and never put on makeup. Shoot, she could run around bare-beamed and buck naked, if she wanted to.
Still, she could use the money. A house as old as this one was constantly in need of repair. And, as he said, it was a big place. How much trouble could one man be?
Sensing that she was weakening, he quickly took advantage. “Look, we can agree on a monthly rate and I’ll