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Since Gunner and his brothers didn’t have a mother—they had one, but she’d taken off before Grandma Sara had died—their father and then grandfather had been saddled with riding herd over three rowdy boys and Gramps had never been good at herding.
After he parked in front of the sprawling one-story wood-and-stone ranch house, he entered through the back door and stepped into the kitchen. Shuffling sounds came from the hallway and he quickly stuffed the bag with the cigarettes and wooden snake in it beneath the kitchen sink. Seconds later his grandfather walked into the room.
“The last time you looked that angry, I broke the handle on the upstairs toilet,” Gunner said.
Gramps hitched his pants. “That woman’s determined to shove me off the wagon.”
Grandpa Emmett was an alcoholic—Gunner’s father had been one, too. So far he and his brothers hadn’t followed in the family tradition and Gunner planned on keeping it that way. Hoping to cajole his grandfather out of his bad mood, he said, “You want to eat out tomorrow for your birthday?”
“I’m too damned old to celebrate birthdays.”
“Eighty-five is hardly old,” Gunner teased. “You’re practically a spring chicken.”
“My private parts ain’t sprung in years, boy.”
“They’ve got little blue pills for that, Gramps. I can call Doc Jones and have him write you a prescription.” His suggestion earned him another glare.
“What has Amelia Rinehart done this time to get your dander up?” The old woman had been best friends with Gunner’s grandmother, but she rubbed Gramps the wrong way and no one knew why.
“That wackadoodle gets an idea in her head and she can’t let it go.”
“What idea?”
“She says the town needs a makeover.”
“What kind of makeover?”
“She wants to spruce up the Moonlight Motel—” the old man’s pointer finger wagged in front of Gunner’s face “—because you’ve let it fall into disrepair.”
“It doesn’t make sense to give it a face-lift.” Tourists had quit visiting Stampede years ago, instead bypassing the town and spending their money in nearby Mesquite and Rocky Point.
“If you ran the motel better, Amelia wouldn’t be sticking her nose into our affairs.”
Gunner admitted that his management skills could use a little work, but flirting with buckle bunnies, singing karaoke and riding Diablo were a heck of a lot more fun than babysitting a dumpy motel while waiting for a wayward traveler to rent a room. “Amelia can think it needs fixing up all she wants, but you own the property, so you can tell her to bug off and pester someone else.”
“No, I can’t.”
Gunner started at the serious tone in the old man’s voice. “Why not?”
“I never paid back the money I borrowed from Amelia to buy the motel for your grandmother.”
“I thought the bank loaned you the money.”
“The bank wouldn’t give me a second loan.”
“Second loan? What was the first?”
Gramps waved his hand in the air. “Never mind that. I owe Amelia $130,000 for the motel and I don’t have the money to pay her. She says she’ll forgive the loan if I let her fix it up.”
“Who’s footing the bill for the improvements?”
“She is.”
“A waste of cash if you ask me,” Gunner said.
“There’s nothing I can do to stop her.” His grandfather narrowed his eyes. “And you’re going to help her.”
“Help Amelia how?”
“Not Amelia. You’re helping her niece renovate the motel. The sooner you get it fixed up, the sooner that old woman quits pestering me.”
“What about my rodeo schedule?”
“You can chase the girls after you finish with the motel.”
Gunner raised his hands in the air. “Why does everyone think I rodeo for the buckle bunnies and not for the broncs?”
“Maybe because you don’t make any money at it.”
He ignored his grandfather’s quip and asked, “Which niece am I helping?” Amelia Rinehart had three nieces close to Gunner and his brothers’ ages.
“Lydia Canter.”
His memory recalled the unfriendly blonde at the gas station with Wisconsin plates on her car. No wonder he’d felt a sense of déjà vu at the Valero. He’d seen Lydia in church at her uncle’s funeral years ago. She couldn’t have been more than fifteen, but her hair had been the same pale blond and just as long.
Suddenly Gunner was thinking that the Moonlight Motel might need a face-lift after all.
* * *
“I CAN’T BELIEVE it’s been nine years since I last visited Stampede.” Lydia sat on the front porch of her great-aunt’s brick Victorian. The home looked out of place in a town comprised mostly of single-story brick homes.
“A funeral is hardly considered a visit, dear.”
Lydia’s smile dimmed as she studied her grandmother’s eldest sister. “Are you lonely, Aunt Amelia?”
“Sometimes, but Robert and I had fifty-two years together. More than many couples get these days.”
“Mom sends her love,” Lydia said.
“How is your mother?”
“Busy with work.” Lydia’s mother was always busy. Her career came first before family. Every once in a while Lydia suspected her mother was disappointed that her only child hadn’t followed in her footsteps and become a lawyer, instead choosing a career in interior design.
Aunt Amelia was the eldest of the four Westin daughters and the only one living. Her three sisters had passed away in their seventies, each leaving behind an only child—a daughter. Lydia and her cousins, Scarlett and Sadie, had been named after their grandmothers. Aunt Amelia had never had children and Lydia thought it was sad that her great-aunt didn’t have a granddaughter named after her.
Lydia reached inside her purse for a tissue and her aunt asked, “Are you feeling any better?”
“A little.” When her aunt had phoned to summon Lydia to Texas, Lydia had just gotten home from a doctor’s appointment, where she’d been diagnosed with an ear and sinus infection. The last thing she’d wanted to do was board a plane all stuffed up, but she hadn’t had the heart to turn down her aunt’s request—not after the generous check Amelia had sent Lydia for her college graduation. The money had paid off more than half her student-loan debt. Rather than risk her head exploding on the airplane, Lydia had driven from Wisconsin to Texas.
“The doctor put me on an antibiotic.” She’d been prescribed two weeks’ worth of heavy-duty meds, and although Lydia was feeling much better, she’d been told to take all of the pills until they were gone.
“Did you ever get rid of those antique school desks?” Lydia remembered playing with her cousins in the attic when their families visited Stampede together in the summers.
“I have them. I wish Sadie would bring her boys to visit. They’d love playing on the third floor.”
“Being a single parent is tough. Sadie spends most of her free time shuffling Tommy and Tyler to and from their activities.”
“How often do you get together with your cousins?”
“We try to have a girls’ night out once a month. And Scarlett and I trade off attending the twins’ extracurricular activities.”
“I’m glad you three are close. I have fond memories of growing up with my sisters.” Amelia smiled. “We caused our fair share of trouble.”
“Grandma said you were the ringleader.”
Amelia laughed. “Sometimes, but not always. Your grandmother hogged the bathroom every morning and made us late for school most days.”
“I’m glad you kept this house after Uncle Robert passed away.”
“I’ll never forget the first time I met him,” Amelia said. “I was sweaty, dusty, and my hair windblown after chasing our hound dog all the way into town. Barney was an escape artist and Father threatened to get rid of him if we couldn’t keep him in the yard.” Amelia poked Lydia’s shoulder. “Your grandmother was supposed to watch him that day, but she’d snuck off with a girlfriend. Thank goodness I happened to step outside right when Barney chewed through his leash and ran off.”
Lydia had heard this story before from her grandmother but kept quiet so her great-aunt could spin her tale. “I looked like a rag doll by the time I found Robert sharing an ice-cream cone with Barney in front of the Woolworth building. I was about to call out for the dog when Robert glanced up and our gazes connected.”
“What did you think when you first saw Uncle Robert?”
“I’d never seen a more handsome, well-dressed man in my entire life.”
Lydia’s mother had told her that Uncle Robert had been an up-and-coming executive for Shell Oil when he’d passed through Stampede and had swept eighteen-year-old Amelia off her feet.
“I thanked him for entertaining Barney and went on my way. It wasn’t until later that I heard about an oilman checking out the area and learned that man was the one who’d caught Barney.” Amelia stared into space as if reliving the past, then blinked and smiled at Lydia. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with your boyfriend, Ryan.”
It had been over a year since the relationship had ended and Lydia was ready to move on. “I joined an online dating service.” She’d paid for the subscription a week before her aunt requested her help. Lydia had only had time to create her profile before packing her suitcase and driving south.
“The internet isn’t safe. A young girl as pretty as you should be able to find a man without the help of a computer.”
Lydia’s fingers curled into her palms. “It’s difficult to socialize and meet people when you’re on a tight budget and trying to get a business off the ground.”
“I don’t understand why you left the company you were working for. What was the name of that place? Design...”
“Design Logistics. I quit because I wanted control over my work.” What she’d really wanted was credit for her designs. Lydia’s boss, Ellen, hadn’t allowed her to meet with clients. It was by accident that she’d discovered Ellen had been taking credit for Lydia’s ideas. When she requested a raise and was turned down, she’d struck out on her own and learned the hard way that it wasn’t easy winning new clients when you had no references.
“What about meeting eligible bachelors through Sadie’s and Scarlett’s friends?” her aunt asked.
“It’s not easy finding someone you’re compatible with.”
“All this talk about compatibility is ridiculous. Your uncle and I were raised very differently, but we made it work.”
“I work out of my apartment, which makes it even more challenging to meet new people.” And to add salt to the wound, Lydia’s friends from college were all married and starting families. She was the odd woman out, resulting in awkward get-togethers when talk turned to babies, mortgages and the cost of day care.
“What kind of man interests you?”
“Aunt Amelia, I’d rather not talk about my dismal dating life.” She flashed a halfhearted smile. “Can we discuss why I’m here?” What she really needed to be doing was focusing her time and energy on building her client base.
Amelia pointed to the MacBook Air sitting on Lydia’s lap. “I have a business proposition for you.”
“You want to be one of my clients?”
Her aunt nodded.
Lydia glanced around the porch. “Are you thinking of updating the house?”
“No, I’d like you to renovate the old motel on the outskirts of town.”
“The Moonlight Motel?” The janky dump had seen its best years five decades ago. “I thought that place had shut down.”
“It’s still open...when the manager feels like flipping on the vacancy sign.” Amelia snorted. “Stampede is falling apart right before my eyes.”
Lydia’s grandmother had always wished her sister would leave “that godforsaken dusty hideaway for die-hard wranglers and has-been cowboys.”
“Stampede is losing tourist dollars to our neighbors in Rocky Point and Mesquite all because our mayor isn’t willing to put a little money and elbow grease into sprucing up the town.”
“Why the motel?”
“It’s the only place people can stay when they visit Stampede.”
“What shape is the building in?”
“The rooms haven’t been updated since the ’70s.”
“Do you have the approval of the owner to fix it up?”
“I do. And Emmett Hardell’s grandson will be helping you.”
“Which grandson?”
“Gunner manages the motel when he’s not off pretending he’s a rodeo cowboy.”
Lydia recalled the hot look Gunner had sent her in church during her uncle’s funeral. Later that day she’d overheard her mother and Aunt Amelia chatting about the Hardell boys. Her aunt had blamed their wild ways on the lack of a female influence in their lives. The boys’ mother had abandoned the family, and then a few years later their grandmother had passed away, leaving their “tomcatting” father and “irritable” grandfather—Aunt Amelia’s words—to raise the boys.
“How old is Gunner?”
“A year older than you, I believe.”
“As far as renovating the motel,” Lydia said, “you’re just looking to freshen up the paint colors and change the furniture and decor?”
“That’s right. And I’ll pay you for your work.”
“You don’t have to do that, Aunt Amelia.”
