Mountain Heiress. Cassie Miles
chemise with the ivory yoke. “A woman should feel glamorous at least once a day, even if she’s alone in bed. And nightwear is one of the easiest things to make.”
“You made that?”
“I had some scraps left over from a prom dress I did for one of the girls in the neighborhood. I stitched it together and voila!” She came toward Charlotte whose long hair was fastened in two tight braids that made her look twelve years old. “I could make something for you.”
“It’s not practical. That silky material isn’t warm.”
“Which is why you have a robe.” From the rail at the end of the bed, she picked up a long black satin kimono that she’d embroidered with silver roses and slipped it over her chemise. “I saw your nightgown last night—very Little House on the Prairie. You might like to try something different, just for a change.”
Charlotte couldn’t resist stroking the smooth fabric of the kimono, but her forehead pinched in a scowl. “I’ve got no need to dress up.”
“Fashion isn’t about need. It’s about desire and dreams.” Gabby needed to be careful not to push this odd, shy girl too far. Charlotte needed a friend more than a makeover. “Let’s go downstairs. I think I changed my mind about breakfast.”
She slipped into a pair of sparkly ballet flats that were going to be totally useless at the Roost, except for using as slippers and followed Charlotte out the door. If she decided to stay, a shopping trip for footwear would be absolutely necessary.
* * *
ZACH GLANCED AT Daphne, who was sitting in the passenger seat of his truck. The black-and-white dog raised an eyebrow and shook her head as though she was worried about the current situation. So was he.
Earlier this morning, he’d been riding the fence line along his property to make sure Gabby hadn’t torn the barbed wire apart, and he’d discovered a footprint. The grass beside a fence post was tamped down, and he could see the clear outline of a boot heel. Someone had been standing at this spot—about a mile from the front porch of the Roost—for long enough to make an impression. Though Charlotte’s theory about treasure hunters still seemed as far-fetched as a pirate ship sailing over Mount Sopris, the footprint indicated that someone had been watching the house, spying on them. Combined with the break-in during Michelle’s memorial, Zach had reason to be concerned.
Gabby’s arrival made the situation worse. While Charlotte was a nervous little thing who might get herself into trouble with her misplaced handling of her rifle, Gabby was a loose cannon. The first time he’d seen her, she was wearing a leopard bra and not much else. How the hell could he predict what she’d say or do?
As they approached the house, Daphne’s ears pricked up and she made a grumbling noise deep in her throat.
“You’re right, girl. This could be trouble.”
Though Zach knew he couldn’t really talk to his dogs or his horses, he’d always felt like he could communicate with animals. He respected their intelligence and their instincts, which were a hundred times sharper than his own. When Daphne sensed danger, he paid attention.
Reaching over, he scratched behind her ears. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep an eye on them. Michelle would have wanted it.”
Daphne’s mouth dropped open in what looked like a grin. The dog had liked being around Michelle and spent a lot of time curled up at the base of her easel while she painted. Zach couldn’t help wondering if Daphne understood that Michelle was gone and not coming back. More likely, the dog would always approach the Roost with the expectation of greeting the former owner. And who was Zach to say Daphne’s instincts were wrong? Michelle Rousseau might still be here in spirit.
He parked his truck and went to the front door, which stood wide-open in a blatant invitation to intruders. The smell of smoke hung in the air. He stepped inside. “What’s going on?”
Gabby rushed down the hall from the kitchen. In a pair of tight red jeans and a loose jacket striped with neon colors, she looked like an urban butterfly. “I was baking.”
Clearly, that wasn’t the whole story. “And?”
“Charlotte made breakfast this morning, and it was really good. Scrambled eggs and Canadian bacon. So, I thought I’d help out, and I remembered those yummy cookies Rhoda gave me last night. I was cooking. Everything was going fine. And then this dish towel caught fire.”
“Uh-huh.”
“All under control,” she said with a confident smile.
“Uh-huh.”
Today, she had on makeup—a bit of lining around her dark eyes and pink lipstick that emphasized the fullness of her mouth. With her dark hair framing her face, she was striking, almost beautiful. He had an urge to tell her, to caress the delicate lines of her face and to taste those pretty lips.
“Zach, can I ask you a favor?” Before he could respond, she continued, “I made an appointment to see my great-aunt’s lawyer at two o’clock this afternoon. His office is in Aspen, and I need to take my car in for a checkup. It would help if you came with me, in case I have to leave my car overnight.”
“Sure.” He had already cleared his appointments for today, anticipating problems at the Roost.
“I appreciate it.”
When she reached over and casually patted his arm, a current of electricity shot up to his shoulder and spread across his chest. He enjoyed the effect she had on him but hated feeling out of control. The time had come to get a grip. “There’s something important we need to discuss.”
“Anything, you can talk to me about anything.”
From the top of the staircase, he heard Charlotte’s voice. “Here I come,” she shouted, “ready or not.”
The feminine creature that descended the stairs had Charlotte’s long hair and her nervous blue eyes. Otherwise, she was unrecognizable. The makeup she was wearing didn’t cover the hot red blush on her cheeks. Her legs were encased in fishnet stockings, and she wore a short, tight skirt. Her blouse was long-sleeved, lacy and showed curves he never knew Charlotte had.
At the bottom of the stairs, she spun in a clumsy circle, clearly having trouble maneuvering in her high heels. With a huge smile, she looked up at him. “What do you think?”
“You’re real sparkly.”
“Glitter makeup,” Gabby said.
“Me and Gabby wear the same size. She’s a couple of inches taller, but we’re pretty much the same. I don’t know about these shoes, though. They’re kind of big.”
“Get used to it,” Gabby said. “Those shoes are Louboutins. They’re really expensive, and they’re yours now, Charlotte. The Universe told me they should belong to you.” She nudged Zach’s arm. “Doesn’t she look great?”
“It’s a change.” He didn’t particularly like the transformation, but he was glad to see Charlotte happy. “You look real pretty.”
She actually giggled. Zach was certain that he’d never seen this young woman do anything so girlie, and he was damn sure that this fluffy attitude wasn’t the best for discussing security needs. Still, he had to try. “I need for you both to listen to me.”
“Give me a second.” Charlotte stumbled into the front parlor and sank into a white leather chair. “The shoes aren’t working. Trade with me, Gabby. The ones you’re wearing have straps.”
“If you insist.”
They swapped shoes. When Gabby stood, the extra couple of inches from her expensive heels made her almost as tall as he was. She strutted a few paces and grinned down at her shoes. “They fit me, but they belong to you, Charlotte.”
“Whatever.”
“Ladies,” he said, “we need to talk about