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“Just because an attraction exists doesn’t mean we have to act on it.” She tugged at the shirt cuffs on her long-sleeved tee, as if covering up as much skin as possible would somehow mitigate the chemistry. “We’re adults. And obviously, we know better now.”
Above the trees, the sun must have dipped behind some clouds, casting them in sudden shadow.
“You keep telling yourself that.” He took a step back, dragging in a calming breath. “In the meantime, I wanted to see if there’s anything I can do to help with your case against your father.”
His swift change of subject was purposeful. He needed a distraction if he wanted to stop thinking about touching Lark.
And he’d been incensed on her behalf when he’d heard her dad was contesting Antonia’s will. News traveled fast in a small town like Catamount. His other neighbors had been quick to fill him in on the local drama.
“I appreciate that.” She regarded him with new interest. Curiosity. “But I’m not sure there’s anything you can do unless Antonia articulated her plans for Crooked Elm with you.”
An errant birch leaf floated down to rest on Lark’s shoulder briefly before she shrugged it away, her focus staying firmly on him.
“She absolutely did. She told me more than once that she was planning to leave the house and lands to you and your sisters.” He’d spent quite a few happy hours with the older woman, helping her with the goats or dropping off grocery items after a run to the store.
At first, he’d done those things to be neighborly, but in a short space of time he found himself over at Crooked Elm just for the enjoyment of talking to the wise and witty older lady. She had an opinion about everything and wasn’t afraid to share it, but she also wasn’t the kind of person who tried to convert him to her way of thinking. She embraced the “live and let live” school of thought, content to let those around her walk their own path. It made her easy to talk to.
“Really?” Lark clamped a hand around his wrist, her fingers cool against his bare skin. “Gran said that to you? In those words?”
Gibson’s heart thudded harder in reply to the touch. Responding to her nearness.
“She said as much in many different ways. Before you and I divorced, your grandmother frequently alluded to the time when you could join your portion of her lands with mine. It made her happy to envision you here in Catamount full-time.” As he shared the memory, he noticed Lark’s face clouded. “But even afterward, when you and I split, she still talked about how you’d come home one day, even if it was just to sell your share of Crooked Elm.”
He hadn’t liked thinking about that. About Lark walking away from a place she’d loved visiting as a kid. She’d adored it when they were married, sharing her pleasure in the place with him so that he’d been eager to buy a home for them here.
Now, she released his wrist abruptly as if she’d just recalled they were touching. Her tongue darted around the rim of her lips before speaking. “That would be really valuable testimony if you were willing to share an official statement with the court.”
His gaze remained fixed on her mouth, his thoughts wildly inappropriate. He nodded at first, his throat too dry to speak. Then, forcing the words, he managed, “Of course I will.”
“Great. Thank you.” She danced back a step, making him wonder if the pull between them was as electric for her as it felt for him. “Fleur and Jessamyn will be thrilled to hear it, too.”
Her feet continued to shuffle away, shifting the pine needles and leaves as she moved. And seeing her careful avoidance made him realize all at once that he needed the leverage this good turn could earn him.
“Wait.” He hated to be that guy who traded on doing the right thing. But damn it, Lark wasn’t going to give him the time of day if he didn’t use this as a way to see her again. “Can I ask a favor in return?”
She arched an eyebrow. “If the gratitude of my family isn’t rewarding enough for you, I guess you may.”
For a moment, he was tempted to ask for something selfish. A kiss. A date. A chance to see that gorgeous hair of hers falling down around her naked shoulders one more time. Any of those things would be easier to request than what he really had in mind.
“I hoped you might stop by to see my mother the next time she’s at the house, Lark. Not for long. Just for a quick hello.” He saw the surprise in her eyes. Sympathy, even. So she did remember his mom’s diagnosis. But he couldn’t think about that—about his ex-wife doing anything for them out of sympathy—or he’d lose his nerve to ask for this boon. “She speaks of you often.”
He didn’t mention that his mother inquired every single time she saw him. Multiple times, thanks to the early onset dementia. He’d given up trying to remind her what had happened between him and Lark. It was too tough to recount that painful time in his life over and over again.
“Oh. How kind of her.” Lark nodded quickly, agreeing. “I’ll definitely do that. Just let me know next time she’s around.”
“Will do.” Bargain struck, Gibson backed up a step, hoping it hadn’t been a mistake to ask. “And if you put me in touch with your attorney, I’ll work on that statement for you.”
“I’ll text you the contact information.” She seemed flustered, which was unusual for Lark. “Thanks again for offering to help with the case.”
At his nod, she pivoted fast, making tracks along the path that would follow the creek to the Crooked Elm Ranch. Gibson watched her go, eyes following her every step, wondering if it would ever get easier to see this woman walk away from him.
Four
“Lark, you’re just in time!” Fleur waved from the backyard.
Two days had passed since Jessamyn’s engagement announcement, and the house was routinely in an uproar with wedding plans. Lark had tried to be a good sport about it even though she and Jessamyn hadn’t spoken much in years. But morning, noon and night there had been talk of dresses, possible attendants, a registry, food for the reception and a million and one other details.
Until she’d been ready to pull her hair out by the roots.
