It hurt more than she cared to admit that Angus was spending his afternoon with someone else, though, so she was grateful when she was able to park the truck and put some space between her and the camera crew.
She found Jada’s Crafts to be a cozy little store packed with skeins of yarn, pattern books, art supplies and more and wished again she was alone to explore it. She could have spent hours picking through its offerings, but when her gaze snagged a loom, Win knew she’d found what she needed. It was a rigid heddle loom—small enough not to be awkward but sophisticated enough to take on any project she might like to try.
“Can I help you?” A young woman appeared from around the counter, her hand-knit turquoise summer-weight sweater setting off her dark skin and eyes. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.”
“I’m Win Lisle. From Base Camp.”
“The TV show? I don’t watch much television, but everyone talks about it.”
Win was grateful the proprietor wasn’t an ardent fan of the show. That would make this conversation far less awkward.
“I’m Jada Lyons. Welcome to paradise.” The woman gestured to the store and smiled. “That’s how I think of this place, at least. My little piece of heaven.”
“I can see why. You have everything a person could want here.” Win reached for the box that contained the loom. “I’d like to try weaving. Got any tips for a beginner?”
“Better than that—I’ve got a book.” Jada led the way to a shelf in one corner of the room. Win and the camera crew followed, the crew members struggling to take up position in the crowded little store. “Here it is.” She pulled out a hardback how-to book. “It’s got a number of simple patterns in it. Do you want to pick one? Then we can find the yarn you’ll need.”
“That sounds perfect.”
Win settled into the task, first leafing through the book, then moving around the store with Jada to pick out the yarn she’d need to complete it. Jada helped her open the box and assemble the loom, demonstrating how to thread—or warp—it for the project. Win forgot all about the camera crew until it was time to pay for her purchases and leave. Chris was murmuring into his phone as they did so. When he ended the call, he shooed her out the door.
“Let’s go. I need to get back to the ranch.”
“What’s your rush?” Win asked, happily toting her new acquisitions down the block to where they’d parked.
“No rush.” Chris slowed his pace. “No rush at all.”
That’s when Win spotted Angus—and a pretty young blonde—walking arm and arm toward them.
Chapter Seven
‡
“I love squash the best, because squash are hardy critters that hold up to heat and drought. Don’t you love them? They get along well with beans and corn, not like those—”
Angus forced himself to walk at Leslie’s pace and not break into a run that would leave her in the dust. She was nice enough. Smart, too, despite her youth and wide blue gaze. But she talked and talked and talked—
Leslie had taken his arm and clung to it since the moment Byron suggested they take a walk after lunch.
“You can show Leslie around town,” he’d pointed out. “Get to know each other better before going back to the ranch.”
At least they were moving, he told himself. If he’d had to sit there in that restaurant one more minute—
Time had crawled at lunch. It was never like that when he was with Win. Working in the greenhouses, taking walks, making love—it didn’t matter. Hours passed in an eyeblink when he was with her.
Win. What he’d give to be with her right now—
“Hey, it’s Win,” Byron said from behind him. He’d been alternately trailing them and looping around to get in front of them as they walked down the sidewalk.
“Hell,” Angus said.
“Win?” Leslie frowned.
He could tell the moment Win spotted them. She’d been striding along happily, a large bag in her arms, chatting with the film crew following her.
Now she’d stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk.
He stopped, too.
“What’s going on?” Leslie asked, too busy looking up at Angus to notice the cause of his concern.
Win’s gaze traveled from him to Leslie and back again. Angus realized what she saw: a man and a woman arm in arm. He shook Leslie off.
“Hey!” Leslie pouted.
Win came to a decision. Bolted like a deer who’d spotted a mountain lion across the street. She held up a hand to stop traffic, which thank goodness there wasn’t much of. Angus took a step to follow her. Realized that was exactly what she wouldn’t want him to do and stopped.
Leslie took his arm again. “Back to squash…”
Angus sighed.
Back to squash.
He hoped like hell Win knew he’d far rather listen to what she had to say.
“You can’t hide in here forever,” Avery told Win when she returned from dinner in the bunkhouse to her tiny house, where Win had remained.
“I don’t see why not.” Win had managed to finish setting up the loom for her project while her stomach protested skipping the meal, but now she was all too ready to set it aside and eat. “Do you know how humiliating it is to catch your fiancé arm in arm with another woman?”
“Is Angus your fiancé?”
“I’m having his baby!” Win took the plate Avery handed to her, set it on the counter and hopped up a little awkwardly to sit beside it. Her center of gravity seemed to have changed recently with the growth of her belly, but she made it, crossed her ankles, picked up the plate again and scooped a mouthful with her fork.
“That’s not quite the same thing.”
Win set the fork down. “What are you saying? You think Angus likes her? What did they do at dinner?”
“Nothing. Angus introduced Leslie to everyone.
