Читать книгу Montana Fever - Jackie Merritt - Страница 9

The woman occupying room 116 in the redbrick Sundowner Motel checked the Rocky Ford telephone directory, located Fanon, Charles A. and wrote his address, as listed, on the small phone pad provided by the motel. Closing the directory, she set it aside, then stared at the pad. 805 Foxworth Street. Her heart thumped nervously, anxiously. She finally had his exact address. It didn’t seem possible, and now that she had gained so much ground, it also seemed a little too easy.

But she had come this far and couldn’t start digressing just because one step in her plan had been simple when she’d expected difficult. She realized, in all honesty, that she hadn’t really taken the first step yet. Up to now, everything had been a backdrop for what was to come.

Breathing deeply to calm herself, she got up for her purse, left the unit and walked to her car. Right now she would take a look at 805 Foxworth Street. Maybe she’d do more than that today, maybe not. It wasn’t that she was lacking in courage, but this was so vastly different from anything else she’d ever done in her life, with so many emotional ramifications—why wouldn’t it demand caution?

It surprised her, when she found the address, that it wasn’t just a house. Foxworth Street had obviously been rezoned from residential to commercial some time ago, because there was both ordinary homes and businesses on each side of the street. Number 805 was a huge old structure that appeared to be a business and a home. It bore a sign over the front porch: Charlie’s Place. Driving slowly past, she could see people through the windows. Frowning, she went to the end of the block, turned around and returned to park on the opposite side of the street so she could study the building.

There were other signs, which she thoughtfully read: Best cup of coffee in town. Pastries. Newspapers. Magazines. Her frown went deeper.

People were going in and coming out. Her stomach churned. She hadn’t anticipated a business at the address, and it felt like a setback to her goal. After about fifteen minutes of uneasily watching the activity at Charlie’s Place, she put the car in gear and drove away.

Charlie had dinner ready when Lola walked in at 6:30. “Something smells very good,” she remarked after a cheery hello.

“Homemade vegetable beef soup,” Charlie proudly announced.

“Wonderful. Let me get rid of my purse and wash up. I’ll be back in a flash.”

Just walking through Charlie’s big old house brought back memories for Lola. She passed the doors leading to Serena’s and Ron’s bedrooms, and fondly remembered when the three of them were youngsters and squabbling over the bathroom to wash up for supper. Serena and Ron were Charlie’s daughter and son, Lola’s cousins, but she loved them as though they were her sister and brother.

Now Ron was in the military, stationed in Germany, involved in something called Special Forces—which meant, to the family’s dismay, that whatever he was doing was too secret to talk about. He was married to a beautiful, petite woman named Candace, and they had a young son no one had seen except in snapshots and photographs. The last time Lola had seen Ron in person was at his wedding. He had been stationed in South Carolina at the time, and the whole family had traveled from their various locations to attend the wedding. It was also the last time she had seen Serena, Lola recalled with a sigh. Serena was completely immersed in the study of law at Georgetown University. Mesmerized by Washington, D.C., and politics, she also held a part-time job in a senator’s office. In one of her letters, she had humorously described herself as a gofer for a secretary to the senator’s main secretary. I’m all but invisible to anyone important, but how I love it, she had written.

Would either Ron or Serena ever return to Rocky Ford? Lola wondered while washing her hands. It would be so great if they could all get together. Charlie would be beside himself if his kids all came home at the same time, if only for a brief visit.

Well, at least she was here, Lola thought, running a brush through her hair. She had mentioned getting her own place when she came home, and Charlie had actually paled. “No, honey, no! I’m so glad you’re home, you have to stay here. Humor an old man, Lola.”

He wasn’t an old man, but he was a crafty one, Lola thought with a small laugh. As Duke Sheridan had said, everyone knew Charlie Fanon. What she could have added was that everyone liked Charlie Fanon. He was a character, no two ways about it, but thinning hair and slight paunch aside, his infectious smile and kindly nature made him a lovable character.

Anyway, she hadn’t looked for an apartment, and she loved living with Charlie again. Her old room was exactly as she had left it, which she planned to do something about one of these days, as high school decor didn’t do much for her anymore. But it was so special to know that her own little domain had always been here, even when she’d been on the other side of the globe.

Returning to the large country kitchen, she asked, “Anything I can do, Charlie?”

“Nope. Everything’s ready.” He placed steaming bowls of soup at her place and his.

They sat down, and Charlie said grace. Smiling at his niece then, he said, “Dive in, but be careful. It’s hot.”

Lola took a cautious taste. “Hmm, delicious. I knew it would be.” She broke off a chunk from the loaf of crusty French bread in a basket between her and Charlie. “So, how’d your day go?” she asked.

“Great, just great,” Charlie answered.

Lola smiled. Every day was great to Charlie. He found something good in everyone he met and something good in every day. Most of his customers were old-timers who came in for coffee, doughnuts and gossip. They bought their daily newspaper from Charlie, and their favorite magazines. His business certainly wasn’t a high-income venture, but he had started it—renovating the large front parlor of the house—after retiring from the telephone company, where he’d worked as a lineman ever since moving to Montana from California.

“How was your day?” he added after a moment.

“Business was very good, one of the best since I opened the store. Most of it was due to one customer. Charlie, do you know Duke Sheridan?”

Charlie nodded. “I know him. Why? Was he in the store today?”

“He sure was. Uh, Charlie, what do you know about him?”

“About Duke? Well, let me see. He’s a successful rancher, hard worker and keeps pretty much to himself.”

Lola’s eyes widened. “Keeps to himself? Charlie, Duke Sheridan is the biggest flirt I’ve ever run into.”

“Duke is? Never heard that about ’im. Well, I really only know him enough to say hello to. But seems to me that kind of reputation would have spread around town.” Charlie cocked an eyebrow and grinned. “Flirted with you, huh? Probably thought you were the cutest little thing he’d ever seen.”

“He said something to that effect,” Lola said dryly. Her tone of voice changed. “Hasn’t he ever been married?”

“Not that I know of. Though I do recall that he and a gal by the name of Tess Hunnicutt were close for quite a spell. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Tess for a long time. Maybe she left town.”

Probably over a broken heart, Lola thought with some cynicism. Despite Charlie’s good opinion of Duke’s reputation, she couldn’t stop thinking of the man as a heartbreaker.

“Anyway, he asked me out to dinner. Insisted on it, to be honest. I had customers coming in…Incidentally, Betty had to leave early because her son Brian broke his arm at school. She called from the hospital. Brian’s arm was set and casted, and he’s doing fine. Betty will be back to work in the morning. But I was very busy, as you can imagine. Duke was pressuring me for a date, and just to get rid of him I finally said yes.”

“You could do a whole lot worse than date Duke Sheridan, honey.”

“Yes, and maybe I could do a whole lot better.” She frowned slightly, remembering the pressure Duke had put on her, making a game of it but pressuring her nonetheless. It had been flattering, yes. He was, after all, one of the bestlooking men she’d ever seen. But maybe he was a little too sure of himself, maybe a little too macho. Commitment to any man wasn’t at the top of her list of priorities, but someday she hoped to marry and have a family. It was just that Duke didn’t quite seem to fit her idea of a life partner.

But then, did she know what kind of man would fit an idea she had never really formulated?

“How old is he, Charlie? Do you know?”

Charlie shook his head. “My guess would be as good as yours. Probably around thirty-five, wouldn’t you say?” Charlie’s grin flashed. “Good age for a man to settle down.”

Lola couldn’t help laughing. “One date is not a forerunner to a man settling down, Charlie Fanon.”

“No, but every man who ever got married started out with one date, Lola Fanon,” Charlie retorted.

“You’ve already got us married? And I thought Duke was a fast worker,” Lola said teasingly. “You’ve got him beat by a mile.”

They laughed together, then Charlie said, “Well, I know some man’s gonna sweep you off your feet one of these days, honey, and as I said, you could do worse than Duke Sheridan. When’s your date?”

“Friday night. He’s going to pick me up at eight.”

A twinkle appeared in Charlie’s eyes. “Maybe I’ll ask him what his intentions are.”

“Maybe I’ll ask about his intentions,” Lola said in a quick response.

Charlie grinned. “You’d do it, too, wouldn’t you?”

“You bet your sweet bippy I would. One pass and Duke’s apt to get an earful.”

“That’s my girl,” Charlie said approvingly. “Keep ’im on the straight and narrow.”

“I fully intend to.”

That night, lying in bed, Lola wondered how true that statement was. If Duke made a pass, would she really give him what for? He was incredibly attractive, after all, and depending on how the evening went, a good-night kiss might not be at all out of line.

It was a wait-and-see proposition, she decided with a yawn. Turning onto her side, she got comfortable and closed her eyes. It was pleasant to fall asleep thinking of devilish golden brown eyes and a smile that would melt snow during a Montana blizzard.

In his bed at the ranch, Duke stared into the dark and thought about Lola Fanon. He’d gone into her store merely to size it up, not to buy a wardrobe he sure as hell didn’t need. That hat, for instance. There were five Stetsons of various colors in his closet, six counting the new one, and he certainly hadn’t needed another pair of boots.

But he’d gotten absolutely silly over Lola and started buying things like a love-struck kid, just to keep her talking to him. Damn, she was pretty. Smart, too. And gutsy. Imagine her traveling all over the world by herself. Had he ever met a more fascinating woman?

“Nope,” he mumbled aloud. “Probably never will, either.”

He wanted her. The tight, uncomfortable sensation in his gut was unmistakably sexual. But there was more than unfulfilled desire keeping him awake; he liked Lola. He liked her bright mind and self-confidence, the way she moved and held her head so high, the courage with which she obviously faced life. There was only one aspect of her personality that he found a little disturbing, her air of independence.

But hell, a man could get around “independent,” couldn’t he? Especially when everything else about a woman was damned near perfect?

Heaving a sigh, he forced Lola from his mind to think about the ranch and tomorrow’s chores. He had three fulltime ranch hands on the payroll, plus an older couple, June and Rufe Hansen. June took care of the house and meals, and Rufe was an all-around handyman, seeing to the grounds, and any repairs to the house, servicing the vehicles and doing any other odd jobs that popped up. The Hansens had been hired by Duke’s father, Hugh, about fifteen years ago, so they were sort of like family to Duke. The only family he had, really. They were also the only people who actually lived on the ranch, besides himself, of course. Hugh had built them a little house about a half mile from the main house, giving them and himself privacy. The Sheridan Ranch covered over four thousand acres of prime Montana grazing land, so there was no reason for people to live on top of each other.

Hugh had also built the main house, which Duke now occupied all by his lonesome. He was very different from his father. Hugh had constructed a large house with plenty of bedrooms and bathrooms so he could invite overnight guests to the ranch, which he had done often. Since his death, there’d been no overnight guests in the Sheridan home, not even Tess Hunnicutt, whom Duke had dated for several years.

He frowned in the dark as Tess entered his mind. He had almost married Tess. Rather, she had presumed that conclusion and he had gone along with it until one night when they were together and it struck him that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with Tess. She was a nonstop talker, which in the early stages of their relationship he had found amusing. But her constant chatter had gradually worn thin. When he realized his loss of feelings for Tess, he had told her in the gentlest way possible that they had no future together. She had stunned him with a scathing fury and a spate of angry words. He’d walked out. About a month later, he’d heard that she had moved to Missoula. Since then there hadn’t been anyone important. He had women friends, to be sure, but none who were counting on a wedding ring.

Now there was Lola, who seemed to be head and shoulders above any woman he’d ever met. Time would tell if that was really true, but he knew one thing for certain: he was anxious as hell for Friday night to roll around so he could see her again.

Punching his pillow into a more comfortable configuration, he closed his eyes. He had to get some sleep, since 5:00 a.m. wasn’t that far off, and he had a full day of work scheduled for tomorrow.

The lady in the blue sedan was startled to see a young woman leave Charles Fanon’s home, get into a red car and drive away. It was 7:45 a.m. She had awakened very early and driven to the Fanon residence and business for another look at the place. The last thing she had expected to see was a young, pretty woman so early in the morning. Obviously the woman had spent the night in the house. Who was she? She seemed too young to be Charles Fanon’s wife, but one never knew. Then again, with such a large residence, maybe Charles rented out rooms.

Perplexed, she started her car and followed the red car at a discreet distance. It was driven behind a line of connecting businesses and then parked. When the driver went through one of the back doors of the block-long building, the woman in the blue car slowly drove close enough to the door to see a sign: Deliveries Only. Men’s Western Wear.

Okay, so she worked at a men’s clothing store. Or maybe the woman owned it. She wanted to get a closer look at the young woman and decided to return later, after the store was open for a while and other customers would be present.

Driving away, she returned to the Sundowner Motel and room 116.

“How is Brian this morning?” Lola asked when Betty arrived at opening time the next morning.

“Brian’s fine. The doctor said to keep him quiet for one day, then send him back to school. Mrs. Miller from down the street is at the house with him. She always watches the kids when Tom and I go out, and she was more than happy to stay with Brian today.”

“Betty, if Brian’s home today, you really didn’t have to come in,” Lola admonished.

“I promise he’s all right,” Betty said. “I would never leave one of my kids if they weren’t.” She then added with an impish smile, “I’m dying to hear what happened with you and Duke Sheridan yesterday.”

Lola was preparing the cash register for the day. “What makes you think anything happened?”

“What an innocent expression! You should have been an actress, Lola Fanon.”

Lola grinned. “And you should have been a gossip columnist. Okay, I give. There’s not that much to tell, anyway. He asked me out. We’re seeing a movie together on Friday evening.”

“I knew it!” Betty’s blue eyes glowed with excitement. “I could tell he fell head over heels the second he saw you.”

Lola scoffed. “That’s silly. All I am to the flirtatious Mr. Sheridan is a new face.”

The first customer of the day walked in, and Betty went to greet him. Finishing her counter work, Lola wondered if she hadn’t hit the nail on the head with her comment of merely being a new face to Duke. The idea was oddly discomfiting, but it certainly could be true.

She realized that she really didn’t know what to think, and wouldn’t know any more about it than she did right now until she spent some time with Duke. What would Friday night bring, disappointment or more intrigue?

Shaking her head over her mental rambling, she walked over to the shirt racks. They had sold quite a few shirts yesterday, and there were gaps on the racks which she closed by rearranging the hangers. A shipment of shirts would arrive today or tomorrow. Good thing she had placed that order when she did, she thought. Without a wide choice of merchandise and sizes, sales would definitely drop off.

It was amazing to her that she was actually making money with her store. Naturally, profit had been her goal when she started this venture, but to think that she was succeeding was extremely gratifying. Apparently she had a head for business, because she was doing everything right. What’s more, she loved every aspect of the operation, even to the paperwork.

The bell above the door jangled. Smiling, Lola went to greet the second customer of the morning. From then on, it was a busy day.