by Mia Ford
He had come through for me, though. His lawyers had shown up as promised, and after one or two court sessions, had made damn sure neither Earl nor any member of the Greene family would come anywhere near me again. For good measure, they had even taken a few light hits at the Sheriff, enough to make him a little warier, but not enough to make him hate me.
I texted him when it was over, thanking him for his help and letting him know just how much I appreciated what he did for me. I couldn’t bring myself to call him, knowing well that hearing his voice would mean I would have to go through the same pain it had taken to get over him the first time. He called me, several times, and then left me a simple ‘you’re welcome’ text when I didn’t pick up. I knew I wasn’t being fair to him, that I owed him more than a simple message, but I couldn’t do anything more than that.
But even after two months, although it had definitely become easier, I still couldn’t help but think about him every now and then. What would have happened if I had said yes? Would I have been able to live in Austin? My mother’s voice constantly rang in my mind, sounding disappointed that I had decided to stay behind even when the opportunity to leave came knocking on my door.
What the hell was I supposed to do anyway?
I frowned, angry at my mind for playing tricks on me, for throwing up images of what could have been, just to take them away again. It was cruel, yet at the same time frustrating. I had made the right choice. I know I ha. There was nothing for me in Austin. My entire life was in Ludwig; everyone I knew, everything I was familiar with, my little bubble of comfort in the big bag world. And my plants. My greenhouse. How could I even consider leaving all that I had built behind? How could he ask me to, that bastard?
Is that really what you’re angry about?
It was. It had to be. Because other than that, then there really wasn’t anyone else around to blame for how I felt other than me, and that wouldn’t sit well with me. I had moved on, or at least I thought I had, and Chance was just a memory; not the one who got away, but the one I couldn’t have.
Then again, there might have been a way to make it work.
No!
Or was there?
I shook my head angrily, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands, concentrating all my hatred on Chance and what he was doing to me, even when he was miles away. Millionaire playboy who thought he could get whatever he wanted. What the hell was I going to do with a man like him? Bear his children, cook his meals, and be his trophy wife while he fucked airheads right and left?
“You’re early.”
I turned around, surprised that someone had been able to walk into the office without me hearing it. I smiled at Martha as she rubbed her hands together and did a jog-dance around the office.
“It’s getting colder by the day,” she said, blowing air into cupped hands.
“Well, we’re a few days away from November,” I said. “You’d kind of expect it, wouldn’t you?”
“Funny thing, sweetie, is that no matter how old I get, I swear, the winters always get colder,” she chuckled. “Has Chuck come in yet?”
I shook my head. “Haven’t seen him.”
“Mhmm.” Martha walked around the desk and opened the ledger. “That’s just great,” she mumbled.
“What’s wrong?”
“The writer’s spending all of December here,” Martha replied. “There go our Christmas plans. And looks like New Year’s, too.”
“Seriously?” I looked over the desk and at the empty ledger save for one name. “That’s odd.”
“He’d better be writing a masterpiece in there,” Martha commented, rubbing her shoulders to stay warm. “Or else I might just kill him.”
“So what are you going to do?” I asked, pouring myself a mug of coffee and preparing one for her, too.
“What can we do,” Martha shrugged. “Usually, this time of the year, closing down for a month or two doesn’t really affect us. It’s a dead season anyway, and a good chance for me and Chuck to kick back for a while.”
I walked back and slid her mug to her. “Thank you, honey,” she said, taking a sip. “Looks like this year, though, we’re stuck here.”
An idea suddenly came to me. “If you want, I can run the motel for you,” I suggested.
Martha frowned, looking at me like I had just said something in a language she couldn’t understand. “What?”
“I don’t have business during December and January anyway,” I said. “I’m probably better off doing something useful, of it’ll give you and Chuck some time off.” I paused. “Besides, I might need the money anyway.”
“Are you sure?” Martha asked. “You don’t think it’ll be a burden. Sweetheart, I’m sure you can use some time off, too.”
I waved the remark away. “It’ll be pretty much the same thing as staying at home,” I said. “And who knows. Maybe someone else wants to escape somewhere to find a little solitude. You might actually get a few guests.”
Martha chuckled. “I highly doubt that,” she said. “Then again, you never know whose truck could break down on the interstate near us.”
I raised an eyebrow at her, knowing exactly what she was trying to do. For the whole time Chance had been gone, she had not stopped trying to get me to talk about it all. I had been nice enough to divert the conversation to something else, and she had been sensible enough to let the matter drop when she knew I didn’t want to talk about it. It didn’t stop her from trying to open it up every now and then.
“If someone’s truck does break down, I hope Hank decides to ignore them,” I said.
Martha only looked at me, then nodded and gave me a knowing smile. “Well, I’ll definitely talk to Chuck about it when he gets here,” she said. “I know he’s been looking forward to Christmas with the family.”
“Really?”
Martha shrugged. “I really don’t see why not,” she said. “Besides, we can probably show you the ropes in a day or two. There really isn’t much that goes into running this place anyway, and as long as you just have to take care of Mr. Bestseller in there, you should be fine.”
“That’s great,” I smiled. “We’re in agreement, then.”
“Thank you, Ashlyn, although you really didn’t have to.”
“Honestly, I could use the distraction.”
Martha glanced at me, sighed, then leaned over the desk and looked me straight in the eye. “How long are you going to keep this up, baby girl?”
“Keep what up?”
“Ashlyn. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
I winced and shrugged. “I don’t know, Martha,” I admitted. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I just want to brush it all off and get on with my life.”
“But you can’t.”
“No, I can’t,” I shook my head. “I try so hard, and he still pops up in my head. And other places…” I put my hand over my heart. “Why won’t he just stay out of there?”
Martha smiled. “I think you know the answer to that.”
“I do, sure, but it’s stupid,” I said. “It’s been a stupid idea from the get-go. I never should have even let it happen.”
“Sweetheart, these things don’t need your permission to happen,” Martha said. “They just do.” She leaned back. “Do you think I planned to fall in love with Chuck? The man was a mess when I met him, and is still a mess, in a way. He used to be this scrawny young man working in my daddy’s garage, without a dollar on him. He was charming, and funny, but he was definitely not relationship material. But I fell for him anyway, and the rest is history.”
She paused, her eyes briefly glazing over as she reminisced, then she looked at me again. “That boy’s truck broke down right outside Ludwig, and he came across the most beautiful flower girl in Texas right here at this motel. He was the solution to your living up at that house all alone, to your problems with that disgusting Greene boy, and you want to call that coincidence?”
“Are you trying to tell me it’s fate that brough
t us together?” I asked, half-smiling.
“Call it whatever you want,” Martha shrugged. “Fate, blind luck, the devil playing a little game of chess with the big man upstairs. What I do know, Ashlyn, is that I have never seen you like this before. And if it’s Chance Ridder that’s got you like this, then that’s got to mean something.”
I thought about what she said, and although I saw the sense in what she was saying, I couldn’t quite bring myself to agree with her. “I don’t know.”
“I do,” Martha smiled. “But, then again, it’s your life. I just don’t want to see you make a big mistake and regret it for the rest of your life.”
I was about to answer her when two cars drove past the office and into the motel. I gazed out the large window and watched them park close to where Chance’s old room was. Four men stepped out of the vehicles, stretching and yawning, immediately going for the car trunks while one of them broke away from the group and made his way to the office.
“Well, I guess you’re going to have more guests than we expected,” Martha said just as the man opened the office door and stepped inside.
He flashed a wide smile at both of us and took off his shades.
Why he was wearing them in the first place would always be a mystery, I thought to myself. The skies were cloudy, and it was rare to see patches of sunlight large enough to merit sunglasses.
“Morning,” the man greeted.
“Afternoon,” Martha replied, smiling and a little bit amused by the man. He was trying too hard to fit in, his jeans and shirt looking like they had just been bought a few minutes ago, and was clearly uncomfortable.
Big city boy, just like Chance.
Only, this one looked like he deserved to be chased out of Ludwig with a shotgun. I could already tell I was going to hate him, and silently prayed that he and his friends were only here for a night, and I wouldn’t have to deal with them in the future. Thankfully there were no deliveries after today.
“Friends and I looking to book two rooms,” the man said, fishing his credit card from his pocket and sliding it across the counter.
“Sure thing,” Martha said. “You boys been driving long?”
“All the way from Austin.”
My head snapped around, and I caught him ogling me, smiling like an ass.
“Interesting,” Martha said, shooting me a sideway glance. “Seems like we’ve been getting a lot of Austin folk coming by this way. On your way to Houston?”
“Nope,” the man shook his head, every now and then stealing glances at me. “Our company has sent us here to renovate a new office space. We’re overseeing the work over the next few weeks.”
“Weeks?” Martha asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” the man nodded. “Didn’t I say? Oh, sorry, yeah, we’re booking the rooms until a few days after New Year’s Day.”
“That’s two months,” I said despite myself, and the man turned to look at me. He frowned a little, as if he were trying to place me, and that only made me feel worse about him.
“Yup, two months,” he said, turning back to Martha. “Is that a problem?”
Martha looked at me, as if asking me if my offer was still on the table. I shrugged. How much worse could they be?
“Nope, no problem,” Martha said. “Just let me get the paperwork ready.”
* * *
I didn’t know that Polly Wagner had sold her store, which was strange. Information like that would have travelled across Ludwig in less than an hour, but somehow, the sale had remained a secret.
I passed by the place on my way home, slowing down as I looked in the dark windows and padlocked door. Polly had run a pretty successful bakery out of there, until her husband had passed away and she had to pay back gambling debts she did not know he had. She had sold everything except for the store itself, probably in hopes that one day she’d be able to reopen.
Apparently, she had given up on that plan. I made a mental note to pass by her place to see how she was doing. It couldn’t be good if it meant selling the store.
But who the hell would buy it?
I frowned. Who in his right mind would buy and turn a store into office space? And exactly what kind of business was this? There was something off about all this, and I didn’t like it one bit. It was not normal for something as big as this to go unnoticed, or ignored for that matter.
Normally, the sale of a store would be the topic of gossip in town, but things were different here. I hadn’t heard anything about it at the diner, which was known to be Ludwig’s gossip center, and even Martha had seemed surprised when the man had explained why he and his friends were here. And when it came to Martha, she took pride in knowing everything that went on in town. This must have been killing her.
Let it go. You’ll find out soon enough. Taking one last look at the store, I shook my head in wonderment and drove away.
Chapter 17: Ashlyn
I groaned when the knocking on the door woke me up.
I was under the covers, my phone on silent and my alarm turned off, having had fully intended to sleep in as much as possible. It was December 31st, and the fact that the New Year was rolling in just twenty-four hours away had made me feel even more depressed than the cold weather did.
Plus, I had spent Christmas alone for the first time in years. I had put up and decorated a beautiful tree, but that was the extent of my holiday cheer. I made myself a pitiful turkey TV dinner for Christmas dinner and cried myself to sleep.
I know. Pathetic.
Chuck and Martha had taken that vacation they had wanted to take, and for the past seven weeks, life had been pretty slow and mundane. The motel didn’t get any new guests, and the men responsible for the renovations at Polly’s old store had been almost as secretive and quiet as the writer, despite their leader’s initial creepiness and perverted glares at my ass when he thought I wasn’t looking.
They had checked out yesterday, and although they said their work was over, no one in town had any clue as to what exactly they were doing or who was the new owner of the renovated space on Main Street. It had been a little mystifying at first, slowly developing into annoyed curiosity, and then angry demands that the people of Ludwig had a right to know what was going on in their own town. Soon, though, that passed as well, and people began to ignore the store completely, which had sat perfectly well with the four strangers from Austin.
The writer had checked out as well, a week before the renovators, a wide smile on his face and a loud declaration that his work here was done, and he was ready to return to civilization. I would have found that insulting had I not been happy to see him go.
With all three rooms now vacant, I had decided to lock the motel up for a few days and just spend New Year’s in bed, sleeping through the festivities, waking up when the world was back to its normal routine and the only difference anyone could recognize was the need to get accustomed to remembering the right date.
I felt like a hibernating bear, completely content with staying in my room until winter was over. I had even brought a few books up to keep me company.
Which was why the knocking that had woken me up annoyed the fuck out of me.
I pulled a sweater on and made my way downstairs, the cold floor making me shiver as I skipped to the front door. I had half the mind to verbally assault whoever it was who thought it a good idea to wake me up, but froze when I opened the door.
“Good morning, Miss Carter.”
I blinked several times, instantly recognizing Chance’s driver, Miles, but oblivious as to why he was here.
“Miles, right?” I asked.
The man smiled and nodded. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“As a matter of fact, you woke me up,” I said. “So, if Chance has anything to do with this, please let him know that if he wants to frustrate me this early in the morning, he should do it himself so I can scream at him instead of you.”
“Mr. Ridder actually sent me to pick you up,” Miles said, still smiling desp
ite my threat. “He would have done it himself if he believed you would have opened the door for him in the first place.”
“Smart man, your boss,” I said. “And what makes you believe I’ll come with you? I think I made it pretty clear to Chance where I stood in regards to…well, whatever.”
Miles nodded again. “He told me you might say that, and wanted to let you know that he is in no way trying to intrude on your life. He merely wants you to join him while he unveils his new business venture on Main Street.”
“That was you?” I almost yelled. “Chance bought the store? Why the hell would he do that? He doesn’t take a hint, does he?”
“I’m afraid not, Miss Carter,” Miles said.
“Well, you can tell him that I wish him all the best, and hopefully will not run into him while he’s here,” I said, closing the door.
Miles stopped me, and quickly pulled what looked like a small picture frame out of his inside suit pocket. It was barely the size of my palm as he handed it to me, and I looked at it in confusion. A dried lily had been expertly placed inside the glass frame. I looked up at Miles and frowned at him, waiting for an explanation.