My Fair Fortune

by Nancy Robards Thompson

  “Does my father know you’re a Fortune?”

  It took him a minute to look up from the leather-bound listing.

  In that time, she thought about calling her dad. But then reality set in. If he didn’t know, the shock would upset him. After his heart attack, he was supposed to remain as stress-free as possible. That was the whole reason she’d moved to Horseback Hollow, to steer Cowboy Country to a successful opening.

  “Of course he does.” He looked at her as if she’d suggested they order orange soda rather than the bottle of wine, which, given his upper-crust airs, was sure to be the best the restaurant had to offer. “Why does my being a Fortune bother you?”

  Why did it bother her?

  He’d done nothing to indicate he’d taken the job for nefarious reasons—to spy and report back...to whoever he’d report back to... Umm, okay, so that sounded far-fetched. But wait! What if he’d come on board to wreak sabotage to keep them from opening?

  The moment the thought formed, it seemed equally ridiculous. After all, he had been the one who’d exercised tough love on Clark Ball, sending him back to work rather than letting him take the afternoon off. If Brodie wanted to sabotage them, he could’ve simply let the electrician walk off the job. They wouldn’t have met the deadline to fix the electrical problems, and Cowboy Country would’ve failed the inspection.

  Why did it bother her?

  “Because it feels like you haven’t been honest with me.”

  That seemed to wipe the smug smirk right off his face.

  For about two seconds.

  “I haven’t been honest with you?”

  She let his words hang in the air, knowing where he was going with this.

  “I suppose I could say the same about you, Cait from Chicago.”

  She refused to let his words faze her. Until he said, “Do you see how bloody ridiculous this is?”

  She sighed. “Oh, my God. I do. As hard as we’ve tried to skirt the issue, we’re going to have to talk about what happened that night.”

  “Well, I don’t know if we have to go that far.”

  “Brodie, we do. Because if we talk about it—or at least acknowledge it—then we can move past it and get to work.”

  “Fair enough. We had sex and it was quite wonderful, if you must know.”

  She felt her face flush. “Well, I really wasn’t thinking we should editorialize, but thank you.”

  Dammit, it had been good. One night of pure pleasure that would’ve been pretty darn-near close to perfect if he hadn’t reappeared in her life and reignited that longing she felt every time she looked at him...or caught him looking at her...like he was doing right now.

  But if this—this partnership—was going to work... “It can’t happen again.”

  “I know.”

  Even though it went against everything she knew was right, the thought of not touching him, of him not touching her, made her heart hurt.

  But why? For what?

  “We have to be a team, Brodie. A platonic team.”

  He nodded, but the way he was looking at her sort of canceled out the word platonic, and she wished she could recant that part. But she couldn’t. They had work to do. She couldn’t let her father down because her mind was occupied with a man who had one-night stands and was perfectly content—no, he wasn’t just content, he preferred to not see the woman again.

  Until him, she’d never done that before. She’d had one serious relationship, and she would’ve married the guy if he hadn’t cheated.

  No, she and Brodie Fortune Hayes were too different. Clearly, they approached business and love from two opposing perspectives.

  “We have to be on the same page.”

  He nodded again.

  Stop looking at me like that.

  “Absolutely,” he agreed. “Why don’t we start by picking out a bottle of wine and then we can talk specifics.”

  * * *

  The wine helped. It loosened them up enough so they could start talking plans and strategies. It probably helped to talk about the ten-ton elephant that had been standing between them, Caitlyn thought as she walked with Brodie down Main Street later that week, looking at all the crafts and food booths set up for the inaugural Horseback Hollow Arts and Crafts Festival, an event created by the Fortune Foundation to reinforce Horseback Hollow’s sense of community. It was clear that the two of them had very different ideas of how to turn Cowboy Country around in the weeks before the soft opening.

  She knew he was a professional and darn good at what he did. He’d have to be for her father to hire him. But she couldn’t help her gut feeling that his slice-and-dice approach—one that utilized fear and an iron fist to push people into place—just wasn’t right.

  Most of the workers were Horseback Hollow locals who needed the jobs Cowboy Country USA was providing. Clearly, some of them were torn, possibly feeling like traitors to the community. Caitlyn had reminded Brodie more than once that this unrest was due in large part to his relatives taking such a negative stand against the amusement park.

  “How can they do that when they don’t really know us?” she’d asked after they’d been seated for dinner at a table upstairs on the Cantina’s open-air terrace.

  He’d maintained that she couldn’t manage by gut feelings. That his tactics had a track record and were proven to work. Just when she started to consider the evening a stalemate, he finally hit on something that allowed them to climb to middle ground.

  “You said the folks of Horseback Hollow don’t know Cowboy Country and what you’re all about,” he said. “Have you gotten out into the community to meet people?”

  She’d blinked at him.

  “I’ve been here less than a week, Brodie, and part of that time was spent at the hospital in Lubbock with my father.”

  “That sounds like an excuse to me.” He said the words with such a straight face she searched his gaze to see if he was kidding. As usual, she couldn’t tell.

  “Are you kidding? Because if not, that’s really harsh. That’s exactly the kind of attitude I’m having a difficult time with.”

  He’d reached out and put his hand on her arm and darned if her traitorous body didn’t zing all the way down to her toes, and some very private places perked up at the memory of his touch.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean to come across as heartless—”

  She pulled her hand away, reclaiming her space and willing the humming in her body to go away. “Well, then stop saying heartless things. And if you tell me that you don’t have a heart—again—I just might have to spill my wine in your lap.”

  He held up his hand as if to fend her off. “I’m very sorry your dad is ill, but the reality is the clock doesn’t stop. Time is ticking whether or not you have good reasons for not doing everything in your power every single day to fix what’s wrong with Cowboy Country. I’m here to help you, but you’re going to have to let me help you.”

  “I appreciate your expertise,” she said. “However, I can’t stand by your philosophy of coming in and firing the locals. That’s not going to win us many friends. Except maybe to the staffing agency we’ll have to use to ensure we have enough warm bodies for opening day. How loyal do you think temps will be? Then if you start importing people from Lubbock, that’ll simply compound the town’s resentment. Not only have we fired the locals, we’ve given those jobs to people from out of town.”

  They’d studied the menus in silence for a long time before Brodie finally said, “I have an idea. When I was downtown, I saw a poster that said the Horseback Hollow Arts and Crafts Festival starts on Friday. Let’s go have a look. That would be one of the best ways to get out in the town and get a feel for who you’re dealing with. Maybe even meet some people who can give you some perspective.”

  It was the first idea he’d offered that she could get on board with. So here they were in the middle of Main Street. She felt as anonymous as she had at the wedding. At least the town was large enough that she wasn’t cons
picuous.

  They strolled along together, and Caitlyn tried to ignore how they probably looked like a couple walking by booth after booth—a stand of bright watercolors; another one offering gorgeous quilts; others proudly displaying hand-thrown pottery, free-form sculpture and delicate orchids that were apparently crafted out of clay and looked more alive than the real deal.

  Just as they passed the clay flowers, Caitlyn had the feeling someone was watching her. She looked across the street and locked eyes with a lady standing at the cotton-candy vendor. The stylish woman, who looked to be in her late fifties, maybe her early sixties, had silver hair cut into a smart, chic bob. Even at a glance, she had an air of class and elegance.

  The woman held Caitlyn’s gaze a little longer than what might be considered a casual coincidence. Just as Caitlyn began to fear that she’d somehow recognized her as part of the Cowboy Country crew, the woman ducked into the crowd and disappeared.

  She was so put together, Caitlyn hated to admit that she seemed a bit more stylish than the typical woman of Horseback Hollow... Oh, that wasn’t fair. Who was she to judge?

  The woman was probably one of the artists. Maybe she’d seen her in one of the booths they’d passed earlier.

  Then again, maybe she was a local who’d gone to rally her neighbors with their torches and pitchforks. And that was the craziest thought yet. If she was going to get to know the locals, she’d inevitably have to have that first uncomfortable moment when they discovered who she was. But then she’d be on the right track to showing them she and Moore Entertainment fully intended to be good neighbors.

  She didn’t say anything to Brodie, who seemed to be unaware as the two of them walked, talking and taking in the lay of the land, getting a sense of the cute little town and people who’d come to display their wares. Each booth sported a tag with the artist’s name, art medium and hometown. Caitlyn was surprised to see how many of them were not local.

  “So I’m guessing the good folks of Horseback Hollow support the arts and crafts festival because it’s not permanent?” Caitlyn asked. “I’m intrigued that so many of the artists are from places other than here.”

  Brodie nodded. “Well, you have to consider that it’s a small town, and there’s a relatively small number of artists. Or at least ones who are good enough to win a place in the festival. From what I understand, this show is by invitation only, and it’s quite an honor to be selected to participate. In other words, Horseback Hollow doesn’t discriminate when it comes to discriminating.”

  Hmm... Obviously.

  Finally, a booth manned by a local caught Caitlyn’s eye: Susie’s Silverworks.

  “Wait,” Caitlyn said. “I want to go in here.”

  Brodie scanned the booth, and she saw his eyes virtually glaze over.

  “While you’re having a look,” he said, “if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go return a phone call. It shouldn’t take long. Shall I meet you here when I’m done? That way you won’t have to rush.”

  “I take it sterling-silver jewelry isn’t your thing?” Caitlyn teased.

  “No, I’m more of a chunky golden chain kind of guy, myself.” He gave her that sexy half smile, and suddenly she was picturing him with his shirt open—not in a smarmy 1970s lounge lizard way. In fact, gold chains didn’t even figure in her mind’s picture.

  And she needed to stop that—

  “You are the golden boy, aren’t you?”

  He shot her a look that implied she didn’t know what she was talking about. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  Caitlyn waited until two browsers had finished looking and moved over so she could take their spot. Then she could see that Susie offered a gorgeous array of handcrafted jewelry—rings, earrings, necklaces and free-form charms. But it was the tray of hammered silver cuff bracelets that caught her eye.

  “Are you Susie?”

  The woman nodded. “I am. These are my creations.”

  “They’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Susie beamed at her. “Please, try on anything you’d like.”

  “Oh, I love this one.” Caitlyn pointed to a concave hammered silver cuff with beveled edges. Susie picked it up and polished it with a velvety black cloth before she offered it to Caitlyn.

  “May I?” Susie nodded toward Caitlyn’s wrist.

  “Please.” She held out her arm and allowed the artist to slip on the bracelet.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think I’m in love,” Caitlyn said.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed that silver-haired woman again. The one she’d caught staring at her and Brodie as they’d wound their way through the crowd down Main Street. This time there was no doubt. The woman was watching her from the next booth. In fact, she was craning her neck.

  Caitlyn smiled at her. The woman smiled back. But a knot of people meandered through their line of vision, and by the time they’d moved on, the woman was gone.

  At least she’d smiled, which was a good indication that she hadn’t summoned the angry mobs. But the woman’s attention did make Caitlyn squirm a little bit. Probably because she spent so much time alone in her research. In a city the size of Chicago, it was easy to be alone in a crowd. She saw some of the same faces on her walk to and from her office, but she never connected with any of them. Maybe it was the city girl in her that made her feel suspicious of a smile. When she thought of it that way, suspicion didn’t feel right, either.

  “Try this one.” Susie held up another cuff bracelet. This one was smooth and shiny and about half the width of the other one. Caitlyn removed the first bracelet from her wrist and put on the one Susie offered in its place.

  “This one is beautiful, too.”

  “If you want something a little less dressy, I have these.”

  She placed five silver bangles on a black velvet pad she’d set atop the glass case. Some of them had inlaid stones; others were plain.

  “And here are the matching earrings.”

  Caitlyn sighed. “It’s all so pretty, but I think I prefer the cuff bracelets. Now, for the difficult decision. Which one?”

  “Try them both on,” Susie urged.

  Caitlyn slipped one onto each wrist and held out her arms to admire and compare the two pieces of jewelry.

  “I vote for the hammered silver,” said a female voice behind Caitlyn.

  When she turned around, she saw the woman with the silver hair. She held up her own arm, showing off a cuff similar to the one Caitlyn was partial to, but it was just different enough to make each piece unique.

  “She has good taste,” the woman said to Susie.

  “She certainly does,” Susie agreed. “How are you, Jeanne Marie? I was wondering when you were going to stop by and see me.”

  Susie turned to Caitlyn. “Jeanne Marie is one of my best customers.”

  “Please don’t tell that to my husband,” she said.

  She turned to Caitlyn. “Have we met? You look very familiar.”

  So that was the reason the woman had been staring. Of course. It made Caitlyn feel better knowing she was simply trying to place her.

  “I don’t believe we have. I’m Caitlyn Moore.”

  Caitlyn offered her hand. The woman accepted it.

  “Nice to meet you, Ms. Moore. Are you a Horseback Hollow resident, or are you just here for the art festival?”

  “I recently moved to the area,” Caitlyn said.

  “Is that so? What brought you here?”

  Caitlyn took a deep breath. Her mission today was to reach out to the people in the community. Jeanne Marie seemed like a great person to start with.

  “My job brought me here. I’m with Cowboy Country USA. I’ve come to town to help open the park.”

  In a split second the air seemed to change, to chill. Jeanne Marie and Susie glanced at each other and then back at Caitlyn. Jeanne Marie raised her chin and tilted her head to the right as she conjured a polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

  C
aitlyn removed the cuffs from her wrists and set them on the piece of velvet.

  “Susie, I’ll take the hammered silver bracelet.” She pulled her wallet out of her purse.

  “That’s a good choice,” Jeanne Marie said, her voice proper and chilly.

  Caitlyn tried to think of something clever to say or some way to spin this situation—where was Brodie when she needed him?—but only the truth felt right. It was all she had to offer.

  “Jeanne Marie, I haven’t been in Horseback Hollow very long, but I already love this town. I love the way everyone here looks out for their neighbors. They only want what is best for the community. I understand why people might be a bit skeptical about a place like Cowboy Country USA. You’re probably afraid that it won’t fit into the fabric of your close-knit community. But if you’ll just give us a chance, I assure you, we want to be good neighbors.”

  Jeanne Marie’s polite smile didn’t waver, but it wasn’t any warmer, either. Obviously, she wasn’t convinced.

  “I appreciate you saying that. You seem very sincere. However, I’m more interested in hearing how you are acquainted with my nephew, Brodie Fortune Hayes.”

  * * *

  It took Brodie a little longer than he’d intended to take care of his phone call. He was half expecting Caitlyn to have moved on from the jewelry tent where he’d promised to meet her. But there she was.

  Even in the midst of a crowd, his eyes picked her out, the same way he had at the wedding. With her long, dark hair and ivory skin, the woman was a stunner. Her warm heart and ready smile made her even more beautiful. What man in his right mind wouldn’t find her attractive?

  However, his appreciation was derailed when he realized she was talking to his aunt Jeanne Marie.

  Uttering a choice word under his breath, he quickened his pace. This was not good. Not good at all.

  “Hello, Auntie.” He planted a kiss on the woman’s cheek. “It’s a lovely day for an art festival, right? I see you’ve met my friend, Caitlyn.”