Page 39 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

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It was a beautiful day as they wandered away from the coffee shop. The sun warmed Bea’s back whenever it slipped out from behind the clouds. She tended to think of London as a gray city, but there was nothing dreary about it today.

“Is there anything at all you’d like to see?” she asked Blane as they left Covent Garden.

He lifted one shoulder. “I’m good. I meant what I said—that’s not the point of today for me.”

She smiled. “Nor for me, if I’m honest. I just hate for you to miss your chance to see London while you’re here.”

“I’m seeing it while we walk.” He pointed ahead. “Isn’t Soho that way? I’ve heard of that.”

“It is. We can just wander, if you like. There’s plenty to look at.”

He met her gaze and held it. “That’s the way I see it.”

“I imagine London’s very different from where you live.” She moved closer to him as they walked to avoid being bumped by people who all seemed determined to go in the opposite direction.

His arm came around her shoulders, and she immediately felt as though she was back in the lee of the large granite cliff he claimed to be, sheltered from everything moving around them.

“You’d be surprised. A lot of the work we do takes us to big cities. But if you mean Montana, yeah. Couldn’t be more different from this. The number of people walking down this street would populate a whole town back home.”

She smiled. “I can’t imagine that. I believe Montana’s beautiful. I’d have thought more people would want to live there.”

“Seems like more and more do these days. Not all of them survive the winters.” His mouth twitched. “We get a lot because I’m right by Yellowstone National Park. You heard of that?”

She laughed softly. “Yes, Blane. Of course I’ve heard of Yellowstone. I’ve always thought I’d like to see it someday.”

For half a second she wondered if that sounded like more than she’d intended. Apparently not.

“Yeah, we get plenty of tourists. It’s the transplants that bother me. Like you were saying before, people move someplace because they like it, then expect the place to adapt to suit them. Got no time for that.”

“I imagine it must be difficult if you’ve lived there all your life and your friends have too.” She glanced up at him. “And you weren’t joking? They really are ranchers and cowboys and that sort?”

“No joke. Cash, the one you heard on the phone, his family has a big ranch. Mav, our other partner, has another one farther down the valley.”

He made a low sound she was beginning to recognize as his shorthand for a laugh.

“Twenty miles apart and they’re both called MacFarland Ranch. But that’s those guys for you. The others too. Ranchers, cowboys.” He smiled. “One of them’s even the sheriff these days.”

“Oh my goodness. You really still have sheriffs?”

“Yep. Sure do.”

“I can’t imagine a life like that. I’d definitely stick out as an expat—or what did you call it? A transplant.”

He turned his head and looked at her. “You’d fit fine in my valley.”

Her breath caught. He probably hadn’t meant anything by it, and yet she couldn’t help noticing what he’d said. Not that she’d like his valley. That she’d fit there. She risked a smile. “Perhaps I’ll have to see it someday.”

He looked at her again and nodded, but they kept walking. There wasn’t really anywhere for the conversation to go after that. Perhaps she would see Yellowstone someday. She’d always thought she might. But if she ever did see Blane’s valley, it wouldn’t be because of him. There was no someday in their plan.

She knew that.

Still, as they wandered through Soho and his hand somehow found hers again, part of her couldn’t help wishing there were.

They spent the rest of the afternoon wandering with no particular destination. They went in and out of shops, with Blane frequently looking faintly bewildered by whatever she picked up to show him. Mostly, though, they walked—hand in hand now—pointing things out to each other and talking about whatever came to mind.

It was the most wonderful afternoon Bea could remember having in years. Perhaps longer. She tightened her fingers around his as the thought brought a strange ache with it. Not because everything that had come before had been wasted. It hadn’t. It had made her who she was, and there had been good years as well as difficult ones. But being with Blane was showing her something she hadn’t known to miss—ease.