Читать книгу Montana Fever - Jackie Merritt - Страница 11

A blue sedan was parked in the dark shadow of a huge cottonwood tree, directly across the street from Charlie’s Place. The woman inside the car sat rigid as a rock, staring intently at the lighted windows of the Fanon residence. A man was in and out of sight, appearing to be doing some cleaning. She couldn’t see his features clearly and wished she had binoculars with her. Even the vague picture he presented, however, made her heart beat faster. Charles Albert Fanon. Instinctively she knew it was him. This was her chance. She should take it…now!

Her muscles became even stiffer than they’d been and her thoughts began stumbling over one another. Panic rose in her throat, and it took several minutes to even partially calm herself.

She knew the name of the dark-haired young woman living with Charles…Lola Fanon. She had visited the Men’s Western Wear store, going in when the two female clerks were busy with customers. Browsing, she had managed to get close enough to read Lola’s courtesy tag on her blouse. The Fanon name had dealt her a blow. Who was she to Charles? The rent-a-room theory was out; Lola Fanon had to be closely related, probably a daughter.

Then, earlier tonight, she had seen Lola leave with a man in a black vehicle. Ever since, she had been watching Charles through the windows of his house and business.

She inhaled a deep breath, waiting for the courage to climb the stairs to the front porch, to go through that door, to do what she had come to Montana and Rocky Ford to do.

“Oh, God,” she moaned. She could never leave town until she accomplished her goal, and here was a perfect opportunity to do so. He was all alone in that big house. Why couldn’t she get out of this car?

Her mind raced, looking for answers. Was it because she still didn’t know enough about Charles Fanon? Enough about Lola? Maybe he had more children than Lola. If so, where were they? Where was his wife?

There were too many questions confusing her. She could not do it tonight.

The decision was relieving. Her body lost some of its tension.

When the lights went out in the front part of the house, she started the car and slowly drove away.

The second Duke paid for their admittance to the Lockland Grange, he pulled Lola onto the dance floor. Surprised, she laughed but fell into the steps of the waltz being played by the people making music on a piano, guitar and fiddle.

She glanced around in amazement while they danced. “It’s exactly the same.”

“Told you it was,” Duke said.

“Yes, but after so many years I expected some change. The ladies still have their tables of snacks and drinks to sell along that west wall, and the piano is in the exact spot it always was.”

“Some things never change,” Duke said.

“Very few.”

“Have you noticed changes in the area since you returned?”

“Lots of them.”

“And you don’t like change?”

“To the contrary, I’ve always enjoyed change. Actively sought it, to be honest. Until recently,” she said. “I’m talking about personal change now,” she added after a moment.

“So you were a changeable woman and now you’re not?”

She nodded. “Something like that.”

“How’d that happen?”

Good question, she thought, and gave a small shrug in response. “The band members can’t possibly be the same people who were here when I was a teenager, but they seem the same,” she said, instead of replying to Duke’s question.