let loose a snort of laughter. A flirt with a moral code. “What kind of rules could you possibly have?”
He looked genuinely offended. “First, they’ve got to be old enough to know better.”
“Ah, well, that’s sensible. Lilibeth’s only nineteen.” How could he tell? Faith couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.
“And second.” Dale’s green eyes looked deadly serious. “They must be safe.”
“Safe?” Faith scrunched up her face.
What on earth did he mean by that? What did he have to fear? Maybe Dale wasn’t the heartbreaker type. He seemed too cold to get involved with a woman long enough for that. And too sophisticated, besides. She imagined that Dale Massey didn’t like messy breakups. He struck her as something of a neat freak to boot. No doubt anything messy made him uncomfortable.
He nodded. “Safe.”
“Huh.” Faith started the car.
Did women throw themselves at him because of who he was as heir to the Massey empire? Probably. But he’d flirted with her. Did that mean she was safe? She swallowed hard on that disappointing thought.
No, wait. Safe was good. She should be happy with safe.
She glanced at his finely chiseled face. “Do you need anything before we leave town? More coffee, perhaps? There’s a nice bakery across the street if you’re hungry.”
“No.”
“I have granola bars in my purse. Let me know if you want one.”
He gave her an amused look. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
What—too good for granola bars? Faith pulled out and hung a left onto River Road and then pulled into the corner gas station.
“Here—” Dale handed her his credit card “—have them fill it up. I got this.” Then his phone vibrated and he answered it, already absorbed. “Dale Massey.”
Faith took the card and flipped the inside lever to her gas cap and got out. This was his trip, after all; she’d gladly let him pay for her gas. She didn’t know who he thought they were to pump it.
“Faith!”
She looked up as her friend since grade school, Marie Middleton, exited the minimart with a tall vanilla latte. Her favorite. “What’s up?”
“Had to make a delivery of flowers.”
“Really, who to?”
Marie gave her a look. “You know I can’t tell you. Customer privacy policy.”
“Awww, come on. Who are they from then? At least tell me that.”
Marie looked around and then whispered, “Ellis Cooper.”
Faith laughed.
The guy had run against her father in the last mayoral race. No doubt Ellis sent flowers to impress someone. With all the dignitaries in town for homecoming, the recipient could be anyone, really.
Ellis had championed the bridge fund to get votes, but Faith didn’t buy his sincerity for the project. He’d be the kind of guy who’d want the bridge named after him once it opened. If he’d had the means to fund it, then take the name and the glory. But Cooper Bridge didn’t have the same ring as good old Beaver Creek.
Marie squinted as she bent to look in Faith’s car. “Who’s the suit?”
Faith harnessed the gas nozzle back into the pump and waited for the receipt to print. “Dale Massey from New York.”
“So, he finally showed, huh?”
“Yup.” Faith ripped the paper.
“He’s pretty hot.” Marie grinned. “Where are you two going?”
“Lone Peak. Dad doesn’t want him wandering around the mountains by himself.” Faith lowered her voice. “I mean, just look at him.”
“Hmm. Not hard to do.” Marie wiggled her fingers. “Have fun.”
“Yeah, you, too.”
Not what Faith had meant. Dale had pampered city boy written all over him. She climbed in behind the wheel and handed Dale his plastic along with the receipt.
He took it without looking at her or missing a beat of his phone conversation.
Faith pulled back onto Main Street and headed east out of town and toward the mountains while Dale talked on his phone about attorney fees.
After he’d ended his call, Dale stared out the window. Not exactly a talkative guy.
“Why not take that bridge? Seems like a more direct route.”
Faith sighed. “The Beaver Creek Bridge has been out of commission forever.”
“Why?”
Faith shrugged. “It’s a sore spot with some people. My father included.”
“What happened?”
“My great-aunt died when her car slid off the bridge into the rapids below. Her body was never found.”
“That’s the reason no one uses it?”
Faith gave another soft laugh. “It must sound silly to a big-city guy like you, but Lucy Shaw’s accident was substantial drama in little Jasper Gulch. Rumor had it she didn’t want to marry the man her father had picked out, so maybe she drove off that bridge. Investigating the accident first closed it, but then folks didn’t use it and the bridge fell into disrepair.
“We’re trying to raise money, but haven’t gotten close to what’s needed for renovation. My brother Cord is on the town council and leading the charge. But, because my father would rather see it torn down, some folks side with him. Kinda funny that the time capsule was found near the bridge, considering the ruckus over it.” She shrugged. “Jasper Gulch needs to grow regardless.”
“Tax base drying up?”
Faith nodded. “Some businesses think they can’t make it here with so few people. So, it’s a vicious cycle. Kids leave for college or whatever and don’t come back. That’s why this centennial celebration is so important. It puts Jasper Gulch on the tourist map. Hopefully.”
“With only one long way in and out, this town will get overlooked by tourists.”
Again, Faith nodded. “One of the reasons for last month’s Old-Tyme Wedding. Other than giving me a new brother-in-law and sister-in-law, the event gave folks a glimpse of what we have here. Hopefully more exposure to tourists than a website or looking at a map. The Bozeman TV spot got picked up nationally.”
“I didn’t see it.”
Faith increased speed on the open stretch of road. “Fifty couples got married at once. Cord’s got a copy of the ceremony. I can show you.”
Dale’s eyelids lowered with distaste. “That’s okay.”
Faith chewed her bottom lip. She must sound like a real bumpkin going on and on about her little town.
She glanced at Dale again.
He checked his phone, snorted and shoved it back in his pocket.
“No coverage out here. Probably none till we get to Lone Peak. I’m sure the resort has Wi-Fi.” Why was he meeting someone way out here anyway?
Dale stared out the window. “This is desolate country.”
Faith didn’t think so. “I’ve always thought of it as vibrant and teeming with life.”
“You want vibrant? Come to New York.” Pride rang in his voice.
“No, thank you.” Faith shook her head. “I tried city life once. It wasn’t for me.”