Her Cowboy Prince, page 4
part #1 of Once Upon A Western Series
Chapter Three
Melody spent her shift alternately brainstorming more ideas for the Old-Fashioned Christmas event and wondering if she’d lost her mind agreeing to help out. Sure, the extra hours of income wouldn’t hurt, and the part of her that enjoyed organizing and being creative was excited to have something to do again.
But she found herself oddly nervous around Justin, and she didn’t think it was only the probably irrational fear that he’d find out her true identity. Even if he had seen her on TV at some point during Jane’s trial or during the news coverage of the attempt on her own life, she’d totally changed the style and color of her hair. Gone were her long, blonde waves, replaced by a black bob cut to about halfway down her neck. And her housekeeping uniform looked nothing like the stylish attire she’d worn back when she was the face of Redmond Pharmaceuticals after her father fell ill.
And yet, she’d never been particularly nervous around attractive men. She’d been on dates with a few, worked with others, but every time she was in close proximity to Justin, her body seemed to buzz with some weird combination of excitement and unease.
As she headed home, she wondered if she’d be able to quiet her mind enough to sleep.
The sight of someone walking along the side of the road startled her, and she veered toward the middle of the empty highway. She glanced over as she passed the man. Recognition hit and she applied the brakes, wondering why her next-door neighbor was walking way out here. In the rearview mirror, she noticed Marty’s steps slow then halt.
She pulled over and got out. “Hey, Marty. It’s Melody. What are you doing out here?” Sure, there wasn’t much traffic, especially this time of night, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be hit and no one find him for hours or maybe even days.
“Oh, hey,” he said, heading toward her. “My car died a ways back.”
How long had he been walking? She’d already driven a couple of miles since pulling out from the Peak View’s long drive, and there were still another couple of miles to their apartment complex in Logan Springs.
“Hop in before you freeze or get attacked by a bear.”
Marty laughed, as if the thought of either of those things happening was highly amusing.
Once they were inside the car and heading toward home, she glanced over at the younger man. Even in the dim light, she saw how tired he looked.
“Why didn’t you call for a tow truck?”
“Can’t afford it right now.”
If he couldn’t afford a tow, chances were he wouldn’t be able to afford fixing whatever was wrong with his car.
“Maybe a friend could tow the car back to the apartment?”
“Yeah, I’ll call someone in the morning.”
Okay, it wasn’t her problem to solve. Marty might seem like a kid sometimes, but he was a grown man.
“Were you coming home from work?” She thought he worked somewhere in Livingston. A broken-down car would be less of an issue if he had a local job, but Logan Springs, while a quaint little tourist town, didn’t have a thriving job market. Still, it might be worth his time to ask around, especially if he didn’t have reliable transportation.
“Yeah. No idea how I’m going to get to work tomorrow.” He let his head fall back against the headrest.
“Maybe a friend or family member can give you a ride.” Though why hadn’t he called them for a ride home?
“Maybe.” He didn’t sound too convinced. “But thank you for the lift. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” An unexpected warmth filled her chest. It felt good to help someone again.
That brought back memories she did not want to experience right now, especially when she couldn’t do anything to change the situation that had caused them.
“So, where do you work?”
“A grocery store up in Livingston, in the stockroom.”
“Are you from this area?”
Why in the world was she asking the kinds of questions that could lead to the same ones directed back at her?
Because saying nothing felt really awkward, and she had a lie about her background at the ready if she needed it. No matter how ugly it felt every time she had to share her concocted background.
He shook his head, and she would swear she felt a wave of sadness come off him.
“Grew up in Helena.”
“You still have family there?” Maybe they could help him out of his current jam.
“As far as I know.” Well, that didn’t sound promising.
Thankfully, they’d reached the apartment complex, a two-story structure that was comprised of twelve apartments. They got out of the car in awkward silence and headed for the second floor.
“Thanks again for the ride,” Marty said as they paused outside her door.
“No problem. Good luck with your car.”
He nodded and headed toward his own apartment looking both younger and older than what she assumed was his actual age. He seemed sad and perhaps defeated, so much so that it tugged at her heart. If he needed to escape into his gaming tonight, she wasn’t even going to complain. She’d done her fair share of escaping into watching television when the real world got to be too much, when she was just too mentally tired to do anything else.
When she stepped inside her apartment, she dropped her purse on the couch and went straight to the box of chocolates she’d left on the kitchen counter. Another long day behind her, another delicious reward.
She sank down on the couch, kicked off her shoes and rested her feet atop a pillow she placed on the coffee table. The box of chocolates in her lap, she turned on the TV. She needed to watch something to unwind and to take her mind off the fact that she’d agreed to work with Justin despite how being near him made her feel off-kilter. But damn if she wasn’t excited about it at the same time. She’d been in Logan Springs for half a year now and no one had recognized her. Maybe she could relax her vigilance a little.
As she flipped channels, looking for something mindless and entertaining, she pulled the blanket she kept on the back of the couch over her. But instead of a romantic comedy or interesting home décor show about making something fabulous from cast-offs, what jumped out at her was her stepsister’s face.
Her entire body tensed and her stomach knotted. She should just keep flipping the channels, try to forget what she’d seen, but she knew from experience that was impossible. Instead, she upped the volume enough that she could hear what the newscaster was saying.
“Redmond Pharmaceuticals CEO Angelica Stenovia made headlines again today when it was announced the company would be raising the price on the cancer drug Chenarix. The drug, which was developed under the leadership of former CEO and company founder Stuart Redmond, had been seen as a major step forward in the fight against certain types of cancer. But while the late Redmond had a policy of balancing profits with affordability for patients, that does not seem to be the top priority for Stenovia. The price for the drug will be going up five hundred percent in a move billed as a benefit to shareholders.”
A huge lump formed in Melody’s throat as she continued to watch the report, which included interviews with patients who were no longer going to be able to afford the drug, which likely meant their cancer would come back with a vengeance and kill them. She wanted to scream, wanted to lash out by throwing everything breakable in her apartment against the wall, really wanted to rip every hair from Angelica’s head.
Everything her father had built was being destroyed piece by piece in moves designed to wipe the Redmond legacy of a kinder, gentler pharmaceutical company from people’s memories. Now the name would be known as the company that killed people for obscene profits. It didn’t matter that her father was dead, that she was no longer in the picture—Angelica was determined to make them pay for putting her mother in prison.
It didn’t matter to Angelica that Jane deserved to be in that cell and to never take another breath of free air again. Melody believed that Angelica either knew about what her mother had planned to do or took an active part in the plot to kill Melody’s father and take over the company. She—and the police—just couldn’t prove it.
The chocolates suddenly tasted chalky and bitter, as if she were eating cocoa from a can, so she replaced the lid on what remained, clicked off the TV with more force than necessary and stalked out the front door. Before she reconsidered, she went to Marty’s door and knocked. He looked surprised when he opened it to find her there.
“It wasn’t me,” he said, holding his hands up, palms out. “I don’t even have the gaming system on.”
“No, I’m not here for that.” She extended the box to him. “I thought you could use these, if you like chocolate, that is.”
He looked confused. “You got me chocolates?”
She smiled a bit at the thought that he might think she was flirting with him. “You seemed like you had a rotten day. And don’t get too excited, there are only a few left. I’m not crazy enough to give away all my chocolates.”
“Well, in that case…” He accepted the box. “Thanks.”
She nodded. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
After Marty shut his door, Melody found she didn’t want to go back inside. It was as if the air in her apartment was infected now with thoughts of what she’d lost, with the anger even thinking about Jane and Angelica caused to boil within her.
Instead, she stood at the railing that ran the length of the second-floor walkway and stared out toward downtown Logan Springs. She couldn’t see the variety of inviting shops and eateries that lined Main Street from here, the businesses that catered to tourists heading to and from Yellowstone National Park to the south. Couldn’t see the library that she frequented, or the row of little antique and second-hand stores on one of the back streets that weren’t the tourist-invitation face of the town but which she liked to peruse.
Though Logan Springs was night-and-day different from Atlanta, she could have ended up in a lot worse places. It wasn’t as if the government gave those going into witness protection a brochure of posh communities to choose from. When it was a matter of life and death, you were happy to land anywhere if you still had a heartbeat.
Still, she supposed she’d always miss the city she’d lived in her entire life, the life she’d loved, the friends she’d left behind without a word. Did they still mourn her because of the story that had been concocted and fed to the public that she’d died overseas following Jane’s trial? Had some of them guessed she was actually still out here in the world but nonetheless lost to them? She wondered how many of the employees who’d worked for her and her father had left Redmond, either because Angelica had purged them or because they couldn’t stomach what she was doing to the company.
A sudden breeze whistled around the corner of the building, causing her to shiver and matching her mood. She dreaded the coming winter, the blizzards and temperatures not fit for human habitation.
She tried to shove away all the negative thoughts and focus on the fact that maybe she had something to actually look forward to now, the creation of something that would make people happy. She wondered if the planning of the Christmas festivities would make her happy in the process. If she could remember what that felt like.
*
Justin’s dad slipped quietly in the front door a little after midnight, looking like a teenager sneaking in past curfew. When his eyes met Justin’s, he halted.
“You’re still up.”
Justin gestured to the laptop he held. “Catching up on some work.”
His dad hung up his hat and moved closer. Justin caught a whiff of cigarette smoke. Considering the fact that Tom McQueen didn’t smoke and never had, it was a safe bet his dad had been out to another poker game. Justin hated the idea that more money for which his dad had worked hard his entire life might have been lost.
“You work too much,” his dad said.
“Someone’s got to do it.”
His dad couldn’t hide the way his body stiffened at the obvious dig that he hadn’t been pulling his weight lately. Yes, Justin was always in charge of things at the lodge, but Wes had told him that their dad was a shadow of his former hardworking self out on the ranch, too.
“Dad, we need to talk.”
“I’m tired. And you need to get some sleep, too.” He started toward the bedrooms.
“Stop.” Justin set the laptop on the coffee table and stood. “Did you lose again tonight?”
“If I did, it’s my money to lose.”
“Not always. And even if it was, I’m worried about you.”
“I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.”
“Maybe once. Lately, you’ve been doing a pretty poor job of it.” Justin didn’t bother trying to hide his frustration.
His dad turned back toward him, his facial features hard and unyielding. “I don’t tell you how to live your life, so I expect the same from you, especially in my own home.”
Behind the anger, Justin glimpsed pain, understood its source. “This isn’t healthy, Dad. We all miss Mom, but—”
“Good night.” His dad spun and stalked down the hall.
Justin didn’t follow. He knew doing so would just lead to a full-on fight. Instead, he cursed under his breath and dropped back into the recliner. He had no idea how to get through to his dad, how to make him realize that his new, self-destructive habits weren’t going to help him deal with his grief. They were just making things worse.
His own anger welled up inside him. Why did he have to be the only one who didn’t get to escape his grief? He’d lost the same person that his dad and brothers had, but he had to hold himself together, maintain responsibility for the family legacy. He couldn’t even escape into work the way Roman did because around every corner of the resort, the ranch, this house was another reminder of his mom, the most important woman in all of their lives.
He closed his eyes and tried to will some of his frustration away. Visions of another woman drifted into his thoughts. If he and Melody could make the Christmas event a big success, it could give him more time to figure out how to get through to his father. He couldn’t help thinking that working with her might also distract him from his worries, even for just an hour or two a day. It was more of a reprieve than he had now.
He began to drift toward sleep.
In the next moment, something startled him awake, and it took a few foggy moments to realize it had sounded like a door. Maybe Wes had come home from the music hall or the company of some lovely female who’d fallen for his good looks and easy charm. But as he blinked, Justin realized that it had been more than just a few minutes since he’d fallen asleep. From the look of the early light coming in the front window, he’d spent the entire night in the recliner. Despite the obvious passage of time, it felt as if he’d been asleep a max of fifteen minutes.
With a groan, he got to his feet and went to look out the window. Wes had indeed come home, though Justin had no idea when. Nevertheless, he’d dragged his butt out of bed the same as always to get to work running the ranching operation. And standing next to him was their father, outfitted for a day of manual labor. Maybe Justin confronting him the night before had resulted in the desired effect after all. Man, he hoped so.
He felt better after a shower, at least well enough to tackle another day, and headed toward the front door. He’d grab breakfast and coffee at work.
When he stepped outside, he was surprised to see Wes waiting for him. Alarm bells clanged in his head when he saw the look on his brother’s face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did you know Dad’s gambling?”
Justin walked to the edge of the porch and looked out toward the stables. “Did he tell you that?”
“No, I heard it from Parker last night.”
Parker Varton, local sheriff’s deputy and Wes’s best friend since the days when they both still believed in Santa Claus.
“Was this conversation in his official capacity?”
“No. More of the ‘You better watch after your dad’ variety.”
Justin sighed.
“So you did know,” Wes said, no longer posing it as a question.
Justin nodded. “I’ve tried talking to him about it, but he won’t listen.”
“How bad is it?”
“Could be worse. Could be better.”
“Damn. Mom would blister his ears if she saw him like this.”
“If Mom were still here, he wouldn’t be like this.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I wish I knew. It’s not like we can ground him.”
Hoping the answer would fall out of the sky into his lap, he headed to the resort. He tried to bury himself in paperwork, phone calls and meetings, but he wasn’t able to push his concerns completely out of his mind. When someone knocked on his office door, he realized he’d been staring at his computer without really seeing the words in the email for who knew how long.
“Come in.”
Melody poked her head in, making him aware that somehow the entire morning had elapsed.
“Is this a bad time?” she asked. “I can come back later.”
“No, come on in.” Finally, something interesting to focus on.
“Are you okay?”
Her question surprised him, and when he met her eyes it appeared it had surprised her as well.
“Yeah, why?”
“Uh, no reason.”
He didn’t believe that, but he didn’t continue to push for an answer. “You ready to get to work?”
“I guess.” She opened a file folder he hadn’t noticed she held when she came in and took out several sheets of paper. “It might be easier if we could spread these out on a conference room table.”
He stood. “Lead the way.”
They crossed the hall to the executive conference room, and Melody began to lay out the various sheets of paper. He glanced at them and the headings she had centered on each one. Events. Décor. Special Packages. Entertainment. Food and Beverage. Each sheet had several sub-heads with bulleted lists. He’d thought she probably had a talent for this sort of thing, but he’d never expected her to be this prepared.
