Rebecca Zanetti - Against the Wall

“My surprise is in the garage?” Sophie asked. Leila placed a small hand in hers, and her heart swelled.

“No, upstairs.” The little girl tugged her toward the stairway to the left of the doors then released her to run up and push open the door. Sophie followed at a slower pace with Loni on her heels and gasped as she entered the empty room.

A high-pitched roof and exposed beams gave the shadows angles to play while light filtered in wide windows scattered across all four walls and illuminated the oak floor. Sophie focused on the lone easel set on a drop cloth in the middle of the room.

“Jake always planned to make this into an exercise room, but he uses the gym in town instead. It looks perfect for a studio.” Loni’s voice echoed around them.

“It is perfect,” Sophie breathed, the possibilities entrancing her. “But I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you like it?” Leila asked, her eyes gleaming.

“I love it.” Rolling pastures dotted with horses spread out the back window, mountains rose high and proud out the side, and Mineral Lake stretched out to the left. “But Loni—”

Loni opened her arms. “Looks like a nice place to work on the exhibit for Juliet. The girl really could use a successful launch.”

“She could?”

“She just moved here a few months ago. An exhibit would surely put her in good form. But we hadn’t found the right artist. Until now.”

“I don’t know…” Sophie’s gaze softened on the easel and empty canvas. “I’m shocked Jake would create this for me at his house. I mean, we’re not really dating or anything.” Why would he create something like that for her at his home? She hadn’t decided to do the gallery showing and hadn’t agreed to the tribe’s golf course—as far as he knew, she was returning to San Francisco soon.

“Well, take it up with Jake. Though I believe my boy can be extremely persuasive.” Loni turned for the door and beckoned Leila forward. “Where should we take Sophie for lunch?”

Sophie wasn’t surprised when her cell phone rang. Jake’s deep voice slid over the line like warm honey. “How are things?”

“I’m not sure what to say.” She leaned against the wall in her room.

Silence pounded across the line for a minute. “Say about what?”

“The art studio.”

“What art studio?”

She jerked. “Um, the art studio in the top of your garage?”

He cleared his throat. “There’s an art studio in my garage?”

“Oh, God.” She sank on the bed and yanked a pillow over her face. Jake had no clue. “Your mother and Leila—”

Jake swore. “Aw, shit, Sunshine. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I figured that out,” she mumbled. For a brief time, she’d thought maybe he was considering something permanent. Heat filled her face until her cheeks ached. What the hell had she been thinking? She hadn’t wanted that anyway—the man was too controlling.

“The town, my mother, they love you.” Jake sighed. “They interfere, but they mean well.”

“I know.” Could the world just open up and swallow her? Please?

“Maybe it’s a good thing. The studio at my place… In case you’re pregnant,” he said slowly.

“I can be pregnant in San Francisco,” she ground out. She threw the pillow across the room.

“A baby needs a father.”

Her embarrassment turned to irritation. “I won’t let you manipulate me—trying to buy my design and everything.”

There was a shuffling and then, “Damn it. I have to go. But I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

“Are, too.”

“You’re impossible. We’ll discuss it as soon as I can call back.” With that, he clicked off.

“Jerk,” Sophie muttered into the empty room.

Sophie finished the designs for Willa’s Garden but neglected to redesign the golf course for the tribe. Jake didn’t call, and she told herself she was happy about that. The last thing she wanted was to fight with him about a baby that probably didn’t exist. Loni and Leila found an excuse each day to drop by and take her to lunch, and one day the three of them even rode horseback to a picnic spot overlooking Loni and Tom’s ranch. Loni patiently related tribal history, probably to nudge her into doing the paintings, while Leila blatantly brought Jake into every conversation, along with not so subtle reminders that if Sophie didn’t snatch him up, somebody would.

Sophie found herself wishing the little girl were hers. To love and protect.

Finally, she just couldn’t deal with her thoughts alone any longer. The voices in her head were starting to argue with one another. She called the one person in town who might understand. “Juliet? How about we meet for lunch?”

The Dirt Spoon diner smelled of grease, burgers, and home-cooked food. Sophie settled into the worn booth, careful to avoid the rip in the vinyl. “Thanks for meeting me,” she said after they’d ordered.

“I figured you’d want to discuss the art showing.” Juliet smiled and unfolded the paper napkin to place on her lap. Her loose dress and Celtic jewelry made her look like an Irish princess.

Sophie almost agreed—almost took the easy out. But it was time to grow a pair, as her uncle always said. “Actually, I, ah, just wanted to talk… I mean, you’re new to town, so am I, and I don’t really have, I mean, even at home, I don’t have—”

“A lot of friends?” Juliet asked, an understanding smile curving her lips.

Sophie sighed. Yeah, she sounded like a loser. But she’d never connected with people. Her mother had seen to that. “I don’t have many friends at all.”

“Me neither.” Juliet shrugged. “I’m glad you called me.” Her blue eyes lit up. “That took courage.”

More than she knew. “Everyone knows everyone in this town, and it seems like they all know what’s best for everyone else.”

“When somebody gives you directions, they always start with, ‘Turn left by the field where Sam Boseby’s horse died, and then right by the oak tree where Bobby Johnson fell and broke his leg two years ago…’”

Sophie laughed, her shoulders relaxing. “Exactly.”

A couple of men in the far booth argued loudly.

Sophie glanced around but couldn’t see them. Then they went quiet. Good.

Juliet sipped from a sweating plastic glass. “Jake is out of town?”

“Yes. He’s consulting on a trial in D.C.” Sophie traced her fingers over the scarred table. “His mom and daughter created a very cool art studio above his garage for me to paint.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Without telling him,” Sophie finished.

Juliet’s eyes widened. She covered her mouth, mirth filling her face.

“I know.” Heat spiraled into Sophie’s cheeks. “I thanked him on the phone.”

Juliet snorted and dropped her hand. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” Sophie shook her head. “The poor guy had no clue what I was talking about.”

Juliet laughed harder. Finally, she took a deep breath. “This town, I’m telling you. They embrace you and dictate your life. Though that means they like you. It’s nice to belong.”

“I know. But even Jake is trying to push me into staying—and it’s not like he’s made any big declaration of love or anything.” As she said the words, the truth of her hurt slammed home. He wanted her to stay—only if she were pregnant.

Juliet sat back as the waitress delivered their club sandwiches and waited until the girl left. “Have you declared anything?”

Sophie stilled in bringing her drink to her mouth. “Um, well—”

“That’s what I thought.” Juliet took a bite and then swallowed. “Those Lodge men.”

“Speaking of whom. What’s up with you and the sheriff?”

Juliet flushed a pretty pink. “Nothing. I mean, he’s overbearing, bossy, and always around.”

“I think you’re protesting too much.” Sophie chuckled.

“No kidding.” Juliet quirked her lip. “But he’s my landlord, so I have to get along with him.”

“Your landlord?” Sophie took a sip of water.

“Yes. The Lodge-Freeze families own more real estate than you’d believe.” Juliet sighed.

That must’ve been what Dawn meant by family holdings. “Must be nice.” Sophie grinned. “Who knows, maybe I’ll sell a painting someday and then, ah, diversify.”

“Speaking of which, I saw how your eyes lit up about the art showing.”

Sophie blew out a breath. “I’d love to have a real art showing. To paint Montana and have people come and actually want to buy my work. It’d be a dream I hadn’t ever thought I’d get the chance to explore.”

“So you’re saying yes.”

Damn it. “I’m saying yes. But I’ll do it on my terms, and some of that may mean I take pictures and then paint in San Francisco.” At home. Even though it no longer felt like home.

“Fair enough.” Juliet glanced back as the men in the far booth got louder. “What’s going on?”

Sophie glanced up as Billy Rockefeller and Fred Gregton slid out of the far booth. “The guys from the Concerned Citizens for Rural Development Group seem to be having a disagreement.” Frowns lined both men’s faces. “And they’re dressed for, ah, war.”

The two men wore camo outfits and flak boots. Billy Rockefeller looked a lot more dangerous in the army outfit than he had in the fancy jacket.

He stopped at their table. “Ladies.”

Sophie made the introductions, and he shook Juliet’s hand. Fred hovered near the counter and didn’t approach.

Billy cleared his throat, his eyes piercing. “I heard the county commissioners were smart enough to deny your plan.”

Sophie cut her eyes to Juliet. “Good news travels fast.”

Billy nodded and shifted to reveal a gun in his waistband. “Then I heard the tribe is trying to buy your plan. I’d appreciate it if you refused to sell. We don’t need a golf course.”