The Cowboy's Accidental Baby. Marin Thomas

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.”

      “Of course I do.”

      Lydia breathed a sigh of relief, happy she wouldn’t have to dig into her dismal savings to cover the bills next month. “I should be able to handle the task.”

      “I wouldn’t have asked you to take on this project if I didn’t believe you had the talent and skill to pull it off.”

      “Let’s visit the motel in the morning and come up with a design plan.”

      “You’ll have to go by yourself, dear. I have choir practice after church services.”

      Lydia had forgotten that tomorrow was Sunday.

      “As far as decorating ideas, I’m leaving that in your capable hands.”

      “What’s my budget?”

      “There is no budget. Do what needs to be done to turn the motel into a place people will drive out of their way to spend the night.”

      “Are you covering the entire bill for this renovation?”

      Her aunt nodded. “I’ve got more money than I know what to do with, Lydia.”

      That was the truth. Everyone in the family knew that Uncle Robert had left Aunt Amelia millions of dollars in stocks and oil investments. “I don’t have many years left on this earth, and before I meet my Maker, I want Stampede to return to its glory days.”

      Her aunt would have better odds buying lottery tickets because there was no guarantee that all the beautification in the world would bring tourists back to this hidey-hole-in-the-wall.

      “How will I get into the motel rooms to take a look around?”

      Her aunt reached into the pocket of her slacks and pulled out a key. “This will open the front office and the room keys are hanging on a pegboard behind the counter.”

      The motel rooms still used keys? “I’ll have a better idea of the cost of the makeover once I see the place.”

      “If the mayor shows up while you’re looking around, just ignore him.”

      “Who’s the mayor?”

      “I thought you knew.”

      Lydia shook her head.

      “Emmett Hardell is the mayor.”

      “Grandma claimed you were sweet on Emmett when you were in high school. How come you two didn’t end up together?”

      “Because the man’s dumb as a rock when it comes to women.” Amelia waved a hand before her face. “He married my best friend, Sara Pritchett. She was a sweet girl.”

      Lydia wondered if the mayor had any idea what he was up against, taking on Aunt Amelia. If he didn’t, he was about to find out.

       Chapter Two

      Sunday morning Lydia woke up and stared into her open suitcase. She wanted to make a good first impression with the Moonlight Motel manager—even if he was just a country boy. If she wanted Gunner Hardell to take her seriously, then she’d better dress as a professional. She picked out a black maxi skirt and a short-sleeved white poppy-print blouse, then headed for the shower.

      A half hour later with her wet hair secured in a bun at the back of her head, she walked into an empty kitchen. Her aunt had left a note on the table. Good luck today. After washing her antibiotic down with a glass of orange juice, she took her bowl of bran flakes outside and ate breakfast on the front porch swing.

      Her aunt’s home sat on the corner of Buckaroo Avenue and Vaquero Lane. A yellow butterfly vine in full bloom covered the wrought iron fence enclosing the front yard. A large magnolia tree shaded the porch and smaller crepe myrtle trees lined the driveway, their pink blooms scattered across the black asphalt. Boston ferns hung from ornate vintage hooks along the porch overhang and a pot of daisies sat on the table between a pair of white rockers at the end of the porch.

      Aunt Amelia took pride in her home and Lydia wasn’t surprised that she wanted to tidy up the town. All of her neighbors kept their properties neatly landscaped—even the yard of the home with a for-sale sign out front had been mowed recently.

      Lydia swallowed the last bite of cereal and returned inside to brush her teeth and put on lip gloss. With her computer in hand, she grabbed her purse and left the house. She drove through town at a snail’s pace—not much had changed since she’d last visited Stampede.

      Three blocks of businesses formed Chuck Wagon Drive, the main thoroughfare. The brick buildings dated back to the late 1800s and early 1900s—the National Bank and Trust still remained a bank. The old Woolworth had closed its doors decades ago and now the building housed the Cattle Drive Café on the main floor, СКАЧАТЬ