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Why had she always had such a strong effect on me? One that appeared impervious to time, if my reaction today was any indication.
6
ANNIE
An hour later, Atticus and I arrived at his house. Although only a few minutes away from the dude ranch, the property and home felt completely separate. Nestled between groves of trees, with expansive windows in the front and back. At the moment, with the sun low in the sky, it served as a mirror to the majestic mountains in the distance and the blue sky.
Not that I knew a ton about architecture, but his house seemed to be a fusion of modern opulence and the traditional, rugged style so common in Montana. The natural stone and reclaimed wood of the exterior struck me as harmonious with its surroundings. Just like Atticus.
He pulled into the garage, and I got out of the passenger side just as Scout dashed through a doggy door. She ran to me, wagging her tail as if I were her favorite person, but didn’t jump. “Hello, Scout.” I scratched behind her ears. “Good to see you.”
Meanwhile, Atticus had already gotten my suitcases from the back and put them in the mudroom before returning to hold the door for me. “I think you’ll be comfortable in the guest suite.Totally private. Own bathroom and all that.” He shrugged out of his jacket. Scout skirted us, running into the kitchen. I heard her drinking from a water bowl.
“I’m sure it’ll be great,” I said. “The house is spectacular.”
“Thanks, I’m pleased with how it turned out. You can take off your boots and leave them here to dry.” Atticus held out his hands for my jacket, which he hung on one of the pegs that lined one wall.
Shelves and cabinets made up a large portion of the mudroom. Tiles on the floor protected against water and snow.
“I almost forgot about mudrooms,” I said, slipping my feet out of my boots and setting them on the bottom shelf with some of Atticus’s shoes and boots. I liked the look of my smaller ones next to his.
“A must-have here, unlike California.” He took hold of my suitcases, and I followed him into a state-of-the-art gourmet kitchen. Gleaming stainless steel appliances and a giant cooktop caught my attention first, as did the traditional subway tile and light granite countertops.
“It’s stunning.”
“Thanks. I had a designer help me.” He tossed out the name of a celebrity designer.
“You know her?” I asked, flabbergasted.
“I used to play poker with her husband. He’s the brother of my CFO. Or, my former CFO. Felix works at Seamark now. I agreed to be on her blog and magazine, so it worked out for both of us.”
“She’s very talented.” I peered at a decorative shelf with a display of bistro-style flatware.
I imagined the rest of his family standing around the giant island, having a drink and a few laughs or all working together to make a meal. This was a kitchen meant for family life. Did he ever get lonely here with just Scout?
There were several pies set near the sink, which I commented on as my stomach growled.
“Pop brought those by this morning. He’s the family pie maker. Even Elliot, Caspian’s pastry and dessert chef, says they’re the best she’s ever had.”
We left the kitchen and entered an open-plan living area, with vaulted ceilings and exposed wooden beams. A stone fireplace competed with the giant windows that looked out to the mountain range for attention.
“My home theater, wine cellar, and gym are downstairs,” Atticus said. “I can show you those later.”
“Please don’t tell me you have a bowling alley.”
He chuckled. “I’m not a fan of bowling. Too loud.”
“Good point.”
He had my suitcases in hand as he led me down a hallway past several closed doors until we reached the end, where my suite awaited.
It was a lovely, feminine room, decorated in pink and black, with a king bed in the center of the room. Beside the bed were elegant nightstands adorned with chic table lamps. Two comfortable wingback chairs and a small coffee table were arranged around a gas fireplace. A large walk-in closet with custom shelving had ample space for the clothing and accessories in my two suitcases.
“You should have plenty of room for your things,” Atticus said.
“I don’t pack light.” I flushed, remembering the last trip I’d taken with Ben. He’d ridiculed me for bringing too many clothes and made me cry.
“Why should you?” Attics asked. “And deprive some of your outfits the pleasure of your company?”
