by Gloria Doty
It was still deathly quiet. Everyone knew the very real possibility of what he said and that it could become a reality. The bar was in financial trouble and no one knew exactly how to help Jace avoid the dire consequences Blakely was talking about.
“I’m going home for a bit, Mitch. I’ve got some phone calls to make,” Jace stated as he left.
***
“Okay, guys, how are we going to help him?” Ken asked when they knew he was gone. “Anybody got a few hundred thousand laying around that you’d like to part with?”
They shook their heads at that suggestion but continued to think of possibilities.
“What about setting up one of those Go Fund Me pages? There’s a lot of people who wouldn’t want to see this building torn down and might contribute.”
“Yeah, maybe that would work. How about the Bozeman Historical Society? Think they could help?”
“Probably not,” was the answer.
They continued talking but made no progress.
Finally Ken said, “I’m telling you all the same thing I told Jace. He needs something to draw people in here. I know I kiddingly suggested pole dancers but y’all know I wasn’t serious. In the beginning, it needs to be a group or groups who are good enough to pack this place on weekend nights. The residents of New Bozeman don’t even know this place exists so there would have to be some advertising and lots of talkin’ it up. I know how we all feel about the wealthy residents and we talk about them like they’re the enemy…but in this situation, they just might be the savior.”
“So where do you propose we find this fantastic entertainment and if they’re that good, they won’t be cheap. How’s Jace gonna pay for them to be here, if we do find someone?”
“Hey, I came up with the idea. Now you guys can figure out the hard parts,” Ken told them as he stood up to leave. “It’s not going to be torn down tomorrow so we’ve got some time to work on a few things, ok?”
He stepped up to the bar and called Maggie and Mitch over before he left. “Why don’t you two sign Jace up for another dating site? A senior one. I’ll pay for it. You never know. Maybe one of those lonely older women would like a good looking younger guy like Jace to wine and dine them. If they get romantic enough, she might give him the money to bail him out. They’re called cougars, if I’m not mistaken.” He winked and left, quite pleased with his idea. Mitch looked at Maggie and shrugged his shoulders, “I guess it couldn’t hurt, right?”
Maggie shook her head slightly. “I don’t know, Mitch. He was pretty hot about us signing him up for the first one. He might explode if he starts getting notices from older women, too.”
“Besides our jobs, what do we have to lose?” Mitch said under his breath. “And if it worked, he’d thank us, right?”
“I don’t know. Hell, let’s just do it. It’ll take a while for him to figure out it’s another site anyway.”
***
When Jace got home, he immediately called his banker and his mortgage company. He needed to know exactly how much he still had in his savings and in the few investments he made when money was flowing like water. That seemed like eons ago. He also checked how much was required to pay off the loans he had against his property. As much as he hated to admit it, the truth was that it might come down to making a choice between saving his homestead or his business.
He would have the long trip to Colorado to think about his predicament and to weigh all the options. He was pretty sure Danielle wouldn’t want to talk for hours on end and since they didn’t really know each other, they wouldn’t have much to talk about anyway. He could use the time to work on a strategy…whatever that might be.
CHAPTER 12
CAMILLE PRETENDED TO read a book during the plane ride, not wanting to have conversations with any fellow passengers. She had her notes about who she was going to be and the entire fabricated story of her life. She wanted to be well versed in her new persona when the plane landed.
She reminded herself there would be no pictures to accompany her submissions to the magazine…only a fake by-line: Emily Hasbro. That was the name on her new driver’s license too. Hopefully, that would avoid any slip-ups. She chuckled, thinking this sounded like a clandestine spy operation or that she had just entered the Witness Protection Program. She prayed they had covered all the bases. She knew no one in Montana or any surrounding states. She had no relatives except her mother, in Paris, so there should be no danger of a long-lost cousin recognizing her. She also believed the majority of visitors came to the state for sightseeing or the excellent skiing and she had no intention of going anywhere near a crowded tourist attraction or a ski slope.
Camille, now known as Emily, still had trouble believing she had allowed herself to be convinced this was something she needed to do. Perhaps it was punishment for being the oldest person on the magazine staff. Trying to think positively, she convinced herself it would be a nice respite from the office and the daily decisions. That thought gave her pause as she distinctly recalled the last time she’d agreed to let someone else make important decisions. She had nearly lost the magazine and her freedom along with it. She laid her head back and tried to catch a nap but thoughts of that time in her life wouldn’t allow any sleeping. If it hadn’t been for Will, she would have lost everything…something they agreed to never speak of...however, he occasionally tried to blackmail her with the facts of their collusion.
It had been decided Emily Hasbro needed a profile picture for the dating site. She also needed a Facebook page in case any of the men who contacted her would look her up but there would be no profile picture of her face on Facebook. Instead Allie used a flower picture; a pot of geraniums, if she recalled correctly. That in itself was pretty funny, since she wouldn’t know a geranium from a tulip. Her new driver’s license did have a picture of someone who looked similar but not identical of course and the name on it was Emily Hasbro, not Camille Desmond. The profile picture on the dating site was the same as the one on her license. She had done some research and realized not every email or notification was going to result in a meeting, but when it did, she wanted to be prepared. Prepared enough to at least remember where she was supposed to be from, her name and her age.
Submitted articles and columns were generally accepted with a six-month lead time, however, due to the relevance of this story, the publishing timeline had been rearranged to make room for the input Camille was going to send throughout the month. Those stories would then be put in chronological order for readers to see what happened in her dating life in a ‘real-time’ format. At least that was the conceived plan.
Readers had been encouraged to send their personal stories and experiences with dating sites and the end results. Did they marry the person they met? Did they have a humorous encounter or possibly a dangerous encounter? Were they able to recognize a scam immediately or were they actually scammed out of their savings? And last but not least, how many of them joined a dating site for the sex aspect? Was their experience what they thought it would be or were there embarrassing encounters due to age, appearance or perhaps, technique? Camille could hardly wait to read the responses she knew would be forthcoming. As long as they were assured of their anonymity, people jumped at the chance to tell their story.
After the plane landed, Camille went in search of her leased vehicle. As she was handed the keys, the counter person said, “Thank you, Ms. Hasbro. It’s been a pleasure to serve you.” Thinking he was speaking to the person behind her, Camille made no comment and continued to check her phone messages.
Then she heard, “Ms. Hasbro, is everything all right?”
It finally hit her that she was Ms. Hasbro. Emily Hasbro. She gave a weak smile and nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. I guess my ears haven’t unplugged yet.”
‘Great, Camille. Just great. You can’t remember your new name for an hour…how the heck are you ever going to pull this off for six months?’
She spoke the address of her mother’s house into her phone. She had never even s
een a picture of the place. Knowing Barbara, Camille was certain it was very nice but she didn’t know if her mother had upgrades or maintenance done on it either. When she finally found the address, she pulled into the drive, which was large enough for three vehicles and smiled.
She spoke her thoughts out loud. “Well Barbara, you outdid yourself on this one. Holy Cow! Did you plan on having half of Bozeman come for a party or were you trying to make a statement to your neighbors about your unending wealth?”
She checked her messages for the code to unlock the door and grabbed her rolling briefcase. She would return later to bring her few pieces of luggage inside. The interior of the house was as luxurious as the exterior…in a rugged, mountain palace kind of way. She wasn’t sure if mountain décor and palace could be used in the same context but it was the first thing that came to mind. As she toured the ground floor, she made a mental note of thanks that there were no stuffed animal heads on the walls. The fireplace was enormous as was every piece of furniture. Camille shook her head in disbelief. This was not Barbara’s style…Paris was. Why on earth did she purchase this humongous home with acres of lawn in the middle of nowhere? It made no sense.
Camille flopped down in one of the overstuffed chairs and put her feet on the footstool which could easily have seated four people. No sooner had she sat down when the doorbell rang. The unexpected sound startled her and she jumped to her feet.
Her first thought was, ‘Who could possibly be at the door? Bozeman’s Welcome Wagon?’
When she cautiously opened the massive wooden door and peered out, she was greeted by a man in jeans and boots with no shirt on to hide his tanned and extremely muscular body.
‘If this is the Welcome Wagon representative, I can see why Mother bought the house.’
“Yes?” she asked after she found her voice.
“Hi there. Didn’t mean to frighten you, Camille. That is your name, correct?” He pulled a scrap of paper from his back pocket and checked it. Nodding his head at what was on the paper, he said, “Yep. Barbara said you were coming in today and I should introduce myself.” He offered his hand and a gorgeous smile full of the whitest teeth she had ever seen. “My name’s Collier Phillips. I take care of the place for your mother. I apologize for not wearing a shirt but I just ripped mine while planting some shrubs at the last job.”
He fished a card out of another pocket and handed it to her. “If there’s anything you need, Camille, just call me. I take care of the landscaping…unless you want to do it yourself.” He looked at her attire and polished nails and smiled. As an afterthought, he added, “I can repair anything, I can move furniture, I can paint walls if you want a different look and I can even tell you the best establishments to purchase things or where the best eateries are located. But right now, I’ll retrieve your bags and bring them in.”
She nodded at him but couldn’t get any words to come out.
After he brought the two small bags to the door and set them down, he told her, “I will need to come in to the utility room long enough to turn on the water. I was here yesterday and made sure your stove and all appliances were working properly but I had an emergency call from a customer and had to leave before I got to turn the water on. I thought I’d be here before you arrived today but your flight must have been a bit early.”
She hesitantly opened the door wide enough for him to enter the front foyer.
“I appreciate you doing this,” was all she could come up with.
“That’s what Barbara pays me for. She said you’re a writer and you’ll be staying for six months?”
“Yes. That’s the plan,” she mumbled as she followed him to the utility area.
He squatted down to turn some handles and when he stood, he nearly knocked her over.
“Sorry,” she said, embarrassed. “I was watching what you were doing so I would know where the water could be turned on and off.”
Somehow, it didn’t sound right to say, ‘I was gazing appreciatively at your broad back and shoulders.’
Collier headed back to the front door. “You probably don’t have any groceries in here yet. I can pick up a few things for you if you make a list for me or if you’re too tired to cook anything, I’ll tell you a great place to grab a burger and a cold beer. It’s in downtown Bozeman…Old Bozeman…and it’s called The Branding Iron. Nothing fancy, but a clean establishment with great food and a friendly atmosphere. If you go, ask for Maggie. She’s a friend of mine. She’s also the bartender so you won’t have to look far. Tell her Collier sent you.”
With that, he disappeared out the front door and Camille collapsed on the couch.
‘I cannot believe the first person I meet knows my real name, my occupation and that I’m Barbara’s daughter. What else does he know about me and who has he told? Judas! This is never going to work.’
CHAPTER 13
JACE HAD MADE a point of meeting Danielle’s father, Dean. He realized she wasn’t a child but thought it was the right thing to do if he was going to make a long trip with her. This morning, he made a pot of coffee while he waited for Danielle to arrive with her stock trailer. He poured all of it into a thermos except for enough to fill a cup to drink before she showed up. He was extremely sad about taking Jasper back but still felt strangely excited about the trip. Maybe he needed a few days away from bills, past due mortgage payments, Blakely showing up every few days to harass him, new emails from women every day and even The Branding Iron. He really loved the bar and the friends he had there but some days it was too taxing to have to think about it all.
When he saw her pull into the long winding drive, he went out to meet her and tell her where she could park her truck until they returned. She backed her trailer in where he could easily hook up to it and hopped out to unhitch it.
“You back that stock trailer like a pro. I’m impressed,” he told her as he helped with the hitch.
She gave him a rather disdainful look and answered, “What exactly does that mean? You expected me to not be able to back it where you wanted it because I’m a female or because you just thought I couldn’t do it?”
‘Well, Jace, you seem to have started out on the wrong foot this morning,’ he silently chastised himself.
“Look Danielle, I apologize if I offended you with the first words out of my mouth. I didn’t mean anything by my statement except that you did a good job. I’ve known lots of people…men and women…who have a hell of a time backing a trailer. That’s all. We have a lot of hours to spend together and I’d rather not start the trip with you being angry at me.”
She looked up at him and grinned. “I’m sorry. I get a bit testy when someone is questioning my abilities concerning horses, trailers, rifles or anything else about a ranch or equipment. I’ve heard it all my life and it always raises the hair on the back of my neck. I apologize…truly I do. I promise not to make this trip miserable for either of us.”
They hooked her trailer up to Jace’s truck and proceeded to load Jasper. Danielle could tell this was heart-breaking for him and it made her like him even more. A man not afraid to show a little emotion was always a good sign.
She grabbed her duffle bag and stashed it in the back seat of the truck with Jace’s. He handed her a mug for coffee along with the thermos and they were off on their journey.
Danielle started the conversation with what she thought was an innocent question: “Have you lived in Montana your entire life, Jace?”
“Yes and no. I was born here but I’ve lived a few other places but never for long. I consider this my home and consider myself a true Montanan. How about you, Danielle? I haven’t seen you around before the day we met a few weeks ago.”
She moved around a bit on the truck seat until she was comfortable. “First things first…please call me Dani. Danielle is too long and I prefer Dani. In answer to your question about living here, my answer is I moved here about a year ago. Before that, my dad and I moved around a lot…all over the Southwest until I got a job on the Frasier
ranch. That’s where we stayed for years but I always had it in my heart to have my own little spread in Montana. I saved every penny until I could afford the down payment on the property I have now and…” she put her hands out, palms up… “here I am.”
Jace nodded. “So what did you do on the Frasier ranch?”
Dani looked sideways at him to determine if he was really wanting to know or if he was insinuating she couldn’t have done the ranch work.
“I was one of their cowhands. For a long time, I was the only female on the crews.” She continued and laughed at the memory. “The thing was…they didn’t know I was a girl when they hired me and if Mrs. Frasier hadn’t figured it out, they might never have known.”
Jace shook his head. He glanced at her from her head to her boots. Perplexed, he asked, “How could they not know?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she answered.
“It was meant as one. My second question is why did you feel the need to do that? Lie about it, I mean.”
“Well, you see, I applied at a lot of ranches and as soon as they knew I wasn’t a man, they wouldn’t even give me a chance to prove I could do the work. So I decided to put my hair up under my hat and tell them my name was Danny. It worked for me until Mrs. Frasier knew the truth. By that time, I was a valuable asset and Mr. Frasier didn’t care. It didn’t hurt that his wife is a strong woman and I’m sure she told him to keep me on the payroll.” She laughed as she remembered. “It all seems so long ago now, but it wasn’t really.”
“Do you have a family, Dani?”
“Just my dad. My mom died when I was six. Dad took care of me my entire life. He took me with him everywhere he went. I never attended a real school because we moved around too much but no matter what time he got home, he would work on my schoolwork with me. He didn’t know much about girls so he dressed me in boys’ clothing most of the time. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for me to pretend to be a man when I needed a job.”