One Hundred Lifetimes Read online

  One Hundred Lifetimes

  An Aspen Cove Romance

  Kelly Collins

  Copyright © 2019 by Kelley Maestas

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by Victoria Cooper Art

  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Thank you for reading.

  Sneak Peek into One Hundred Ways

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  Chapter One

  Poppy Dawson walked into Sheriff Aiden Cooper’s office with one thing on her mind. If she couldn’t get Mark Bancroft to marry her, she’d have to murder him. The problem with her plan was if Mark Bancroft got anywhere near her outside of work, her father would do the job first.

  She took a seat at the corner desk and pulled her notebook from the drawer to jot down reason number 132 for why she loved him. It was the same reason as the other 131 before it. At twenty-eight, she’d never loved anyone else. Since that day on the playground twenty-one years ago when he stopped Brian Decker from pulling her pigtails, it had always been Mark.

  Her most memorable moment with the man of her dreams happened just over four months ago when she pinned him against the wall and stole the kiss she’d wanted her whole life.

  It was an amazing kiss that lasted at least four seconds. That was when Sheriff Cooper walked into the office, caught them, and said her father was looking for her. That was the last time Mark Bancroft’s lips touched hers.

  She laughed. She didn’t have to kill him herself, all she had to do was tell her dad he kissed her and that would be the end. In truth, she didn’t want Mark in a grave. She wanted him in her bed. Pretending that she hated him was easier than knowing she loved him.

  “Hey, Poppy,” Sheriff Cooper said as he entered.

  “New haircut?” It wasn’t that she noticed the cut as much as she noticed the smell of the shampoo. The Coopers all smelled like coconut unless Aiden got a trim at Cove Cuts and then he smelled like citrus.

  “Can’t be looking like a vagrant.” He took off his hat and set it on the filing cabinet. “Anything hot that I need to know about?”

  “Wes called to ask if you could help with the wedding setup. He’s got tables and chairs that need unloading.” Poppy’s groan happened without thought. Some girls were always a bridesmaid and never a bride. Poppy had never been either.

  “He wants my help now?” he asked. “Sage and Cannon aren’t getting married until the fourteenth.”

  “It’s the twelfth,” she reminded him.

  “No kidding.” He shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk that was two-inches high. With growth came funding, and Sheriff Cooper was filing for everything he could get, from a second deputy to new cars. “I guess I was preoccupied.”

  She’d like to believe it was all work, but the sheriff had been married for about four months. He’d been busy with his wife, Marina, and his adopted daughter, Kellyn. So busy that Marina was already two months pregnant. It seemed that as Louise had been pushing her eighth kid out around Christmas, Aiden had been putting one inside his wife. Some girls had all the luck.

  “He said he could use a hand or two.” Poppy picked up her Nikon from her desk. “I’ve already got a job. I’m the official photographer.” She’d always loved photography but couldn’t pursue it as a career. She was lucky to have a part-time job at the sheriff’s office. If it weren’t for her mother’s ALS and expensive medications, she’d be stuck at the ranch day in and day out. She let out a sigh that could probably be heard in Kansas.

  “You okay?”

  She perked up. “Sure, I’m great.” She stood and took a place in front of her desk. “How about a new photo for the wall? We should have one of you and Mark. You know, the sheriff and his deputy.” She pointed to his desk where he took a seat and folded his hands on top.

  “Like this?” He sat up tall and gave her an almost smile, trying to look serious.

  After a peek into the camera she knew it was all wrong. While he looked professional, the pile of papers on his desk didn’t. She set the camera down and went about setting the stage. Everything looked different from behind the lens.

  When she was certain she had it right, she took the shot. “You should give them a hand. I’ll lock up when I leave.”

  “Thanks, Poppy,” He pocketed his keys and walked toward the door. “How are your sisters doing?”

  She smiled at the thought of Rose, Lily, and Daisy. “They’re great. I’m so proud of them.” If it wasn’t for her staying behind and caring for their mom, her sisters would have never been allowed to go off to college, but Lloyd Dawson couldn’t argue when they all received scholarships. Rose was close by at Colorado State, studying agriculture. Lily had ventured further west to Arizona State to study engineering, while Daisy was in South Dakota diving into environmental sciences. She had her heart set on the forestry service. That left Poppy, her brother Basil and her sister Violet to pick up the pieces.

  “That’s great news.” He plopped his hat on his head. “Your mom hanging in there?”

  “Super, she’s having a really good day today.” She tabled her camera and went back to putting the sheriff’s desk in order.

  “Good to hear. Let us know if there’s anything you need.”

  “Will do.”

  Sheriff Cooper left the office and Poppy to her thoughts. Those thoughts always went back to Deputy Mark Bancroft. She plopped into her seat and scrolled through the forty or fifty pictures she’d taken last week. Seventy percent of them were of him.

  The door opened and in walked Sage, the bride to be. “Just the girl I’m looking for.” Poppy loved Sage, who reminded her of a female Lucky Charms leprechaun or a wood sprite. She was always happy and always moving.

  “What do you need?”

  Sage rounded the desk. “It’s not what I need but what you’re going to get.” She took an envelope from her purse and put it into Poppy’s hand. “For your photography services.”

  Poppy shook her head. “That’s not how it works in this town.”

  Sage laughed. “I know how it works. I’ve got a bed and breakfast, a job as Doc’s nurse, and a man who’s going to be waiting at the end of the aisle for me. I’m a lucky girl. I’m just spreading the love.” She hopped onto the corner of Poppy’s desk. “Maybe your family has forgotten how things work. We take care of our own. If you don’t want it for yourself, then put it in your mother’s medication fund.”

  A tear slipped from Poppy’s eye. She opened the envelope to find several hundred-dollar bills inside. “It’s too much.” She pressed it toward Sage.

  “It’s not enough. Anyone else would char
ge us a fortune.”

  “I don’t want to charge you at all.”

  “Take it. Don’t forget I once had a mother. I wished I could have done something…anything…to keep her. I imagine your family is the same. Use it how you see fit. Give your mom a hug for me.”

  “I will. I know she would have loved to come to your wedding, but it’s not good to tire her out.”

  “We understand. You can take cake and flowers home to her.”

  “She’d like that.” Poppy tucked the envelope inside her desk drawer. Given her father’s distrust of people’s motives and kindness, he’d never let her accept the gift so it was a good thing she was working for it.

  “Are you bringing a date?”

  Poppy didn’t miss the slide of Sage’s eyes to Mark’s empty desk.

  “No, I’m not attending as a guest. This is a job.”

  Sage hopped off the desk. “There’s plenty of time for play too. Maybe you should ask Mark.” She lifted her brow.

  Poppy curled her nose like she smelled something foul. “No way. He’s not my type.” She hated the lie that rolled so easily from her mouth.

  “Really? I always thought you liked him.”

  Her memory went back to that kiss, then fast-forwarded to an hour later when her father found her at home and told her that he’d settled the Mark Bancroft issue once and for all. Poppy had been certain he’d shot the poor man until she showed up to work and found him at his desk. Everything had changed since that day. While he was kind and considerate, he treated her no more or no less than an employee.

  “No, Mark and I are…” She shook her head. “It would never work out.”

  Sage gave her a look that said I don’t believe you, but she didn’t press. “Anything is possible if you want it bad enough.”

  “That’s true, Cannon did get you to the altar on Valentine’s Day.”

  Sage nearly skipped to the door. “Not yet, but he’s got a high likelihood of success.” She giggled as she walked out. Before the door shut, Sage popped her head back inside. “You know, the best way to make a man want you is to show interest in another. Luke Mosier will be at the wedding and he doesn’t have a date. Should I sit you next to him?”

  Poppy smiled. Luke Mosier was beyond handsome. As one of the newest residents and Aspen Cove’s fire chief, he had all the girls drooling. All except Poppy because she was foolishly in love with a man she could never have.

  Was anything really possible? She’d have to move mountains to get her father to accept Mark. Before that could happen, she’d have to get Mark to prove he was a better man than his father. Lloyd Dawson had a strong belief that the apple never fell far from the tree. After Mark’s father, the previous foreman for the Dawsons’ ranch, stole everything her dad had worked so hard to earn, he never let another stranger work his land. That’s how at twenty-eight, Poppy Dawson was stuck living with her parent’s and chasing a dream that never belonged to her.

  Add to that her mother’s debilitating disease, and she’d be lucky if she ever got a date, let alone a husband. Maybe Sage was right. Maybe it wasn’t Poppy who had to prove herself to anyone. Wasn’t it time Mark showed her father he was the man she knew him to be? She shouldn’t have to fight for his place in her life. He should be fighting for her place in his.

  She straightened her spine. “You know what? I’d love to sit next to Luke. Please, if it’s not too much trouble, could you place Mark close enough to see me, but too far to engage?”

  Sage let out a hoot that could be heard down the street. “You got it. This is going to be fun.”

  Poppy packed up her desk and set the phones to transfer to Mark’s cell. “Yes, as long as no one gets shot.” She put the envelope into her purse and took her jacket from the coat rack in the corner.

  “You taking off early?”

  Poppy walked to the door. “Yes. If I’m going to catch a fireman, I have to turn up the sizzle.”

  The women walked out the door and Poppy locked up.

  “Do you really want to catch a fireman?”

  “Of course not, but Mark doesn’t know that.”

  Sage gave her a hug. “I knew you had it in you!”

  They walked side by side until Poppy reached her pickup truck, a beat-up old thing that used to belong to the ranch. The door creaked open, and she tossed her purse on the seat.

  “The question is, does Mark have it in him? The bigger question is will he take the bait?”

  “Something tells me he might.”

  It took Poppy several pumps to the gas pedal and two turns of the key for the engine to cough to life. She drove out of town toward home. Never in a hundred lifetimes would she think she and Mark could be possible, but Sage said it herself. Anything was possible if you wanted it bad enough. There were several things she wanted in this life. One was for her mother to get healthy. Given her diagnosis of ALS, that would never happen. Two was to be able to pursue her dream of photography. Now that the Guild Creative Center was a reality, she still had a whisper of a dream that she’d one day have a studio there—a place where she could show off her photographs. The last but most important thing she truly wanted was Mark. Everything seemed like a pie-in-the-sky dream, but hey, a girl could dream.

  Chapter Two

  Mark had two suits to his name—one for funerals, and one for weddings. He put on the light gray suit and paired it with a crimson tie. He didn’t like the grim look staring back at him in the mirror. Weddings should be happy affairs, but he hadn’t much cared for them lately. One consolation was his gray suit had been used far more than the navy blue, which was a good thing.

  Aspen Cove was becoming a regular lover’s paradise. As people came to town, they found their soul mates, and one by one all his friends were getting married. Cannon Bishop was the last of the originals—the locals he’d grown up with who he swore they would die bachelors. Today Cannon was marrying Sage. The matrimony madness started with Katie and Bowie, then it was Ben and Maisey, Aiden and Marina, and Charlie and Trig. Dalton was engaged to Samantha, no doubt ready to get hitched. Hell, even Doc had Agatha. Mark had no one. All he had was the memory of a much too short kiss with the woman he’d been obsessed with for so long he couldn’t remember a time he didn’t love her.

  Maybe he should wear his funeral suit. With each wedding, a piece of him died. A dream of a wife and children crushed.

  He tugged the tie to his neck and straightened the knot. He ran his fingers through his hair and spritzed on the cologne Poppy always commented on when he wore it. He found himself wearing it all the time just so he could catch her inhaling deeply. He loved the way her eyes closed and her features softened like she smelled freshly baked bread. Poppy Dawson was the woman for him. It sucked that he couldn’t have her.

  The bottle of cologne went back to its place right next to the cheap stuff he used when Poppy wasn’t around.

  He liked things tidy and neat. He actually hated clutter. He chuckled, thinking about Poppy and how she spent the first ten minutes of her day straightening his desk. He made it a point to keep things in disarray so she’d feel compelled to clean it up. He wondered if she truly hated the clutter or if helping him somehow brought her what it brought him—a chance to connect.

  He loved the way she brushed past him to get to the other side. The way her fingers skirted over his shoulders as she moved behind him. The way her breasts touched his back when she reached for the stacks of papers that would be easier to pick up from the front. It was pure pleasure and terrible torture at the same time.

  He pocketed his keys and walked down the hallway to the living room. Poppy would have a heart attack if she saw his place. Not that it was messy, but it was in disarray as he had started on the final refurbishing project. All the walls were gone. What was once a living room, dining area, and kitchen was now one large room.

  It made sense to have a great room—a space where the family could interact together. When he’d lived in the house as a child, his mother stayed in the kit
chen while his father lived in a La-Z-Boy chair in the corner of the living room. Once his old man deserted them, the chair was the first thing his mother tossed to the curb. She said she had a hard time telling one from the other.

  That was twenty years ago and Mark hadn’t seen his father since, but he felt his presence every damn day.

  Why? He’d been asking that question for two decades. Why did he have to steal the Dawsons’ life savings? In doing so, he stole everything from Mark.

  With thoughts of his father came thoughts of his mother. She’d moved to Pennsylvania once Mark got his job as the deputy sheriff. She signed over the house and went to live with her sister.

  He picked up his phone and gave her a ring.

  “Hey, sweetie,” his mother answered. “You off today?”

  “Not really, I’m never actually off. I may not be in the office or patrolling the streets, but I’m on call.” He tugged at his tie to loosen it a tad. “What about you? How’s your weekend?”

  “You know me, I was up early and at the farmer’s market.”

  Mark loved how his mother always found her niche. She was never one to let the world run roughshod over her. “How’d you do?”

  “Came back empty-handed. Sold every last jar.”

  His mother had taken up jam making when she got to her sister’s house. He missed her preserves. No one in town could make raspberry jam like his mom. No one but Poppy, but since her mother’s health had taken a turn for the worse, he hadn’t been gifted a jar of jam in years.