Landon turned away from them and crossed the room to the table of employees from the Christmas tree farm. He pointed to Ed and indicated he should follow Landon.

With a shrug for the other guys, Ed got up to follow Landon through the main doors to the parking lot outside.

Colton crossed the room to the doors to keep an eye on what was happening outside through the window to the right of the entrance.

Filled with anxiety, Ella watched Colton, knowing he’d be through the doors in an instant if Landon needed backup. Hopefully, Ed would go quietly without causing more trouble.

She breathed a sigh of relief when Landon came back inside, his face flushed from the cold and the confrontation. He nodded to Colton and then crossed to where Ella and Charley still stood together.

“He’s history,” Landon said bluntly.

“Did you tell him why?” Charley asked.

“Yeah, and I reminded him that my brother-in-law was killed over there, and no one in this family or the Guthrie family wants to hear his opinions or employ someone who’d say what he did to Gavin.”

“What did he say?” Ella asked.

“That we’re all a bunch of warmongers, yada yada. I didn’t listen. I told him to get lost and stay away from us and our property.”

“Thank you, Landon,” Ella said. “I know it’s a tough time of year to be down a worker.”

“We don’t need his kind on our payroll.”

“No, we don’t.” She gave her brother a kiss on the cheek. “I appreciate you handling that.”

“No problem.” He smiled, and she could see he’d already shaken off the unpleasantness with Ed. “Can I get back to my ladies now?”

“By all means,” Ella said.

“There may be hope for him,” Charley said as they watched him return to the women who’d waited patiently for him.

“Our baby brother is growing up,” Colton said.

“If you did, there’s hope for him, too,” Charley said, drawing a snort of laughter from Ella.

Colton bent at the waist and picked up Charley, swinging her in circles, making everyone around them laugh at the way she pounded on his back.

“Put me down, you immature idiot!”

Ella stood back to keep from getting knocked over by their foolishness.

Colton put Charley down right in front of Tyler Westcott.

Charley sputtered at Colton and pushed her hair back from her face, looking up to see Tyler standing there watching her, an amused expression on his handsome face. He really was adorable, Ella thought, wishing Charley would give the poor guy a chance.

“Hi, Charley,” he said, nodding to Ella and Colton.

“Tyler. What’re you doing here?”

“I brought my mom.” He nodded to Vivienne Westcott, who waved at them from across the crowded room. She worked in the bakery at the store. “She doesn’t like to drive at night.”

“Oh,” Charley said. “That’s nice of you.”

“Would you like to dance?” Tyler asked.

“I, um, well, ah . . .”

Ella nudged her sister to remind her that Vivienne was watching.

“Sure,” Charley mumbled, nudging Ella back.

“Great,” Tyler said, beaming. He was tall with really nice wavy dark hair and blue eyes that stood out even behind a set of black-framed glasses that made him look smart and sexy at the same time.

They walked away together, Charley turning to glare at her siblings over her shoulder. Had she been expecting them to bail her out?

“I like him,” Colton said.

“I like him, too,” Ella replied.

“If he likes her, I also feel sorry for him.”

“Stop it. She’s awesome, and when the right guy comes along, she’ll lose her claws.”

“We can only hope so. I’m going to find Lucy. Are you okay?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t blame Gavin for being upset to see that guy here.”

“I don’t either.” She did blame him, however, for leaving the way he had, but she’d take that up with him when she got the chance. If she got the chance. No, when . . . Definitely when.

CHAPTER 18

Hope is tomorrow’s veneer over

today’s disappointment.

—Evan Esar

Charley wished she could click her heels together three times and be anywhere but in Tyler’s arms on the dance floor of the Grange with her entire family looking on—or so it seemed to her.

She hadn’t wanted to dance with him, but what were her options with his mother watching so hopefully when he came over to her? Ugh. Vivienne was a nice lady and a great employee, and Charley would never want to offend her. Which was how she ended up dancing with Tyler to “Stay with Me,” of all things.

Shoot me now. Please.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Tyler asked.

For a second her brain froze before she realized he meant the group run. “I hope so.”

“Did you get to run at all this week?”

She shook her head. “We were too busy getting ready for tonight.”

“Were you sore after last weekend?”

“For a day or two.” In truth, she’d been hobbling around all week, not that she’d ever tell him that. It had been years since she’d done a distance run, and she’d been foolish to jump right in with six miles the first time out.

“You’re really going to need to run during the week, too, if you’re going to be ready by May.”

“I know that.” Charley didn’t mean for that to come out so sharply, but she hardly needed him telling her how to train. He always did this to her. He made her feel stupid and inadequate and . . . on edge. His presence put her on edge, and she didn’t like the edge. She didn’t like it one bit. She particularly didn’t care for dancing with him. She didn’t like that she could smell his cologne or that she could feel the well-toned muscles of his shoulder under her hand.

She didn’t want to know what Tyler Westcott smelled like or felt like under the pressed dress shirts he favored. He reminded her of her brother Hunter, which wasn’t a bad thing, per se. It just wasn’t her thing.

“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?” he asked in a low, soft tone for her ears only.

“What? No, I will not have dinner with you.”

He laughed. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“I just did. I have before. Why can’t you take no for an answer?”

“Because I don’t believe you mean it.”

She drew back from him, looking up, trying to gauge whether he was for real. Apparently, he was. “How can I convince you?”

“By saying no another two dozen times, at the very least.”

“Are you some sort of masochist?”

“I must be if I want to go out with you.”

The song, blessedly, came to an end, but he didn’t let go of her.

“Um, the song is over.”

“So?”

“So let go. Stop being a creep.”

He smiled down at her.

That arrogant little smirk made her want to smack him. She couldn’t stand how he always looked at her as if he knew her better than she knew herself. When she’d joined the running club, she’d nearly quit when she discovered he was a member, too. Now she was wishing she had quit—so she wouldn’t have to see him every week for six months and so she could sleep in tomorrow.

Running a marathon had been a stupid idea after all. If putting up with Tyler’s knowing smirk every week for the next six months was part of the deal, she might have to reconsider her new life goal.

Long after the song ended, long after he should’ve let go, he finally released her but managed to snag her hand before she could get away. “I’m not giving up on you, Charlotte. And P.S., I don’t buy all your abrasive bullshit. Underneath all that bluster, there’s an interesting woman lurking. I’d like to get to know that woman.”