Chapter Seven – Velvet Heartbreak
Chapter Seven
Sadie
VELVET HEARTbrEAK
Performed by Carrie Underwood
It took over half the drive from Las Vegas to Rivers in California for the steam to stop flowing from my ears at Rafe’s high-handedness, his gross assumptions, and Lorenzo’s cheek kiss that had purposefully fueled the misconception further. The high desert outside the windows of the subcompact rental, with its harder-than-a-rock seat, did nothing to distract me. Mile after mile of the same bland landscape made it feel as if I was going in circles instead of a straight line from one state into the next.
Once the scenery changed to fields of crops, I was finally able to lose some of the humiliation and anger I’d felt leaving The Fortress. The morning hadn’t been an utter failure. I’d confirmed some of the things Gia and I had suspected about Great-grandma Carolyn.
I still had questions, maybe even more now, but whatever I needed to learn from the man who might be my long-lost cousin would only be done via messages and email from here on out. I wouldn’t put myself in the same position of meeting with him alone again. I didn’t need Rafe Marquess’s scathing warning any more than I needed Gia’s reports to know something wasn’t right with Lorenzo. My instincts had screamed it.
For two seconds, I let myself wonder what had happened between the two of them that had caused such fury to appear in Rafe’s chocolate eyes at the sight of Lorenzo sitting in his restaurant. It had felt like more than just a business rivalry. It had felt intensely personal. Had they fought over a woman? That pricked at something that felt, stupidly, like jealousy, but it would explain Rafe’s accusations.
Even though it had nothing to do with me, I couldn’t help being curious. It was my nature to pick at secrets and mysteries. It was what had led me on this wild goose chase to California after all, but I couldn’t afford to try to unravel whatever existed between the two men.
This was one mystery I had to leave back in Vegas with Rafe Marquess—a man I never planned to see again. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why that thought still stung so much, but it did.
Nearly five hours later, the farmland turned into hills that turned into mountains dotted with trees, and the view improved my mood further. A rushing river played peekaboo with the two-lane road, and I got a glimpse of a bright-blue lake that disappeared in the rearview mirror, replaced with craggy, white mountains and enormous sequoia trees.
I crested a hill and descended into the sweet little town of Rivers. The old buildings and wooden sidewalks reminded me so much of home that I felt another pang of homesickness. Willow Creek might not have the national parks on our doorstep to draw the tourists in like Rivers, but people still flocked to our charming restaurants and antique stores. And if I had my way, we’d have one more thing to draw them in.
I hadn’t spoken my plans aloud to a single soul because I wasn’t sure I could make them a reality. How could a twenty-three-year-old, with no college degree under her belt and minimal experience running a business, hope to launch a world-class performing arts center?
And yet, once I’d had the idea, I hadn’t been able to shake it. It was a way we could use the jewels for something good. Not only to give something back to our community but to leave a mark that said Carolyn Puzo-McFlannigan hadn’t given up her Hollywood dreams for nothing…that I hadn’t given mine up for nothing either.
I just had to make sure the jewels were really ours to sell, which was why I’d made the five-and-a-half-hour trip from Vegas to the Harrington Ranch where the diamonds were originally mined. After some research, Gia and I suspected, if the jewels didn’t belong to Carolyn or the Puzos, they might have belonged to the Harringtons themselves. So, I’d reached out to them via the ranch’s website, asking about the diamonds and indicating I had some from the original mine I’d like to talk to them about.
The Harringtons’ business manager had responded, and when I’d asked if he could meet with me in Vegas, he’d said it was impossible for him to get away at the moment. There’d been a death in the family, and things were a bit chaotic. I understood that all too well after making my way through all the paperwork and emotions Uncle Phil’s death had left in its wake.
Several miles past Rivers, I finally reached the turn-off for the ranch tucked between mountains that rose up on either side. The dirt road wound through fields of bluebells and yarrow where cattle grazed lazily in the summer heat. Beef cattle were the ranch’s primary income now, although it hadn’t always been the case. The fate of the ranch had changed wildly in the last century when diamonds had suddenly been found in the hills, and then, just as quickly, the mines had dried up.
An enormous stone wall made of river rock came into view with a metal gate arching over the road that was open in welcoming. Passing through it felt like entering castle grounds, and the house that appeared beyond it only added to the mirage. Curls and flourishes littered the tall gables and towers that made up the golden Victorian manor. It would have shocked me to find the wannabe-English castle in the middle of the California foothills if I hadn’t already seen the house on the ranch’s website.
The circular drive was empty of vehicles, but I spotted a sign for guest parking and drove around back. A large gravel lot butted up against dozens of outbuildings, corrals, and a paddock filled with equipment for training trick horses. Beautifully crafted of river rock with vivid, green snow roofs, the barns would require a hefty sum to keep in such a pristine condition. It was an expense that could easily break a family. It had almost broken ours before Ryder had converted our ranch into a resort.
The Harringtons hadn’t made a similar transition yet, but they’d recently started hosting weddings here. Large, elegant affairs that used the mountains, waterfalls, and flower-studded fields of the sprawling, five-thousand-acre estate as a gorgeous backdrop. As far as my family knew, that was the reason I was there. Not wanting to tell them about the diamonds yet, I’d said that I’d meet up with the Harringtons and see what they had done to draw such an exclusive, high-profile clientele to their ranch in such a short time, in hopes we could do something similar.
It wasn’t a lie. The ranch’s manager, Adam Hurly, had been as interested in swapping information about their wedding business for the details of how we’d transitioned our ranch into a resort as he had been about the diamonds.
Stepping out of the car, heat blasted me like opening the door of a steam furnace—hot but so dry it felt like it was sucking the moisture from my skin. It might be missing the heavy weight of the humidity we had in Tennessee, but it wasn’t any less oppressive.
A gate slammed shut, and I turned to see a woman emerging from one of the paddocks. She was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with work boots on her feet and a baseball hat on her head. A long, wavy, blond ponytail was pulled through the back. The brim of her hat shadowed her face, but when she finally closed the distance and lifted her chin, my breath caught at the raw sadness dripping from eyes a mixed color of hay and grass. She had high cheekbones, elegant brows two shades darker than her hair, and a dainty oval face. She was shorter than me, but not by much, and had the muscles that proved she worked the ranch as much as any of her employees.
On the website, there’d been a photo of her tucked up against a light-brown-haired man with their smiling, blond-haired daughter between them. They’d somehow looked both beachy Californian and down-home farmer at the same time, and love had practically wafted out of the picture.
“You must be Sadie,” she said as she pulled off a work glove to extend a hand.
I took it. “And you must be Lauren.”
She smiled, but it didn’t once clear the shadows surrounding her. “Adam wanted to be here when you arrived, but he had some business to take care of in town that couldn’t wait.”
“He’s been very patient with all my questions about your wedding business, and I’m very grateful he agreed to let me tag along this week. I promise I won’t get in the way. In fact, I have two hands that are very used to being put to work.”
“Your family runs a resort in Tennessee? A dude ranch, right?” she asked. When I nodded, she continued, “We’d been discussing converting our land for a while before Spence—” She bit back her words, swallowed hard, and looked away for a moment. When she turned back to me, that pain in her eyes seemed to have grown so large I could almost touch it. “None of us could agree on anything other than the fact that we needed to do something drastic—and soon. As Adam has been the biggest proponent of turning the place into a resort, he was pretty ecstatic when you reached out.”
“It’s a huge decision, but honestly, it saved us. It allowed us to keep all of our land when others around us were selling off pieces,” I told her.
“But it’s about more than just us, isn’t it? What would it do to the hotels and businesses in town? The other bed-and-breakfasts in the area? For almost a century, the Harringtons have helped the community grow and businesses to flourish. Spence was adamant we not line our pockets at the expense of our neighbors. He’d still be against it.” She wiped the back of her hand along her forehead and then gave me a tight smile. “And by Jesus, here I am, dropping half our problems at your feet the moment you step out of the car. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be, really. It’s fine. I’m more than happy to talk with you about what we did and how we worked with the other businesses in town. It’ll all be secondhand information, as my oldest brother was the driving force behind it, but he was happy to send me with his original business plans and the presentations he used to convince the banks it was a solid risk. Ryder said he was paying it forward after all the help he’d had. And if you have questions I can’t answer, I can get them from him.”
What neither Ryder nor I would share was how the person who’d assisted Ryder and my family in our plans to convert the ranch to a resort had ended up being evil. How he’d almost killed Gia and Ryder and tried to kidnap his little girl. Those things were behind us now. And they didn’t change the fact that Jaime Laredo had helped us before it had all gone to hell.
“Why don’t we get you settled,” Lauren said with a wave toward the castle-like house. “And then we can take a ride over the grounds so I can show you the primary locations we use for the weddings—unless you’re too tired after the drive?”
“Honestly, I’d love it. I feel like I’ve been cooped up for days.” And I realized just how true it was. I’d spent the entirety of the days since leaving Tennessee inside, far away from the sun and the wind and the sounds of nature. I missed the early morning rides I squeezed in before heading to the bar almost as much as the physical work that kept me from obsessing over the past and the future.
Maybe that was really why I’d been so cranky on the first part of the drive. Maybe it had nothing to do with a brown-haired man who’d turned me on and pissed me off in equal measure.
I popped the trunk on the rental and grabbed my suitcase. Wheeling it over the gravel was awkward, and I realized how smart Ryder had been to pave the parking lot at our place, even though, at the time, it had seemed like a huge, unnecessary expense.
As we made our way toward the house, Lauren asked, “What airport did you fly into?”
“Vegas.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s a long drive.”
I laughed. “Longer than it looked online, but I was in Vegas for other reasons, so it made sense to drive over from there.”
As she pushed the large carved doors on the front of the house open, the cool air drifted over me like a soft breeze, a welcome relief after the heat. The entryway was lined with dark wood paneling that led up to vaulted ceilings of embossed copper tiles where a chandelier dripped crystals. The staircase acted as the centerpiece with its oversized dark wood rails and red carpet lined in a classic, Gone with the Wind kind of way.
“No elevator,” she said apologetically, heading directly for the polished stairs.
“I’m used to hauling kegs of beer at the bar and baling hay at the ranch. A suitcase isn’t going to do me in,” I promised.
She gave me her soft smile again. The one that still couldn’t dislodge her misery. “Only another true rancher would know just how hard baling can be.”
I smiled back, feeling her sadness eke over me. Adam had said there’d been a death in the family, and it had hit this woman hard. She’d cut herself off when talking about Spencer and then used his name in the past tense. My heart lurched, remembering the family photo on the website with Spencer Harrington’s name below it. Loss was hard, no matter when and where it came from, but especially when it was the partner you’d chosen to be at your side. I might not know that from personal experience, but I’d watched my siblings go through it before they’d eventually found their happily ever afters.
Lauren led me up two flights of stairs to the third floor. The hall had the same dark wainscotting as the entry and was lined with thick, paneled doors. She opened one near the stairs to reveal a bright room full of antiques. The brass bed had a flowered comforter and was piled high with a rainbow of pillows. An antique armoire with scalloped edges stood against one wall, and a matching dresser with a beveled mirror was on another. Beyond it, white sheers were pulled aside to reveal the craggy mountains and winding river. A narrow door near the window was open to reveal white subway tile and a towel rack with pale-blue linens.
“We converted the closet into a small bath,” she said, waving toward the bathroom. “It limits the hanging space to the armoire, but it’s nice for guests to have their own facilities.”
“It’s a lovely room. Do the wedding guests stay here?” I asked.
She nodded. “The bride stays in the main suite on the floor below us, and we have four other rooms we can use for the wedding party. Considering the size of the house, you’d expect us to have more space available, but we’d have to convert many of them and haven’t had the money to invest. The original Harrington homestead and the old, ranch-hand bunkhouse were renovated before money grew really tight. We have twelve rooms between them, so the groom, his groomsmen, and the parents typically stay out there.”
She retreated to the hallway. “Take as long as you like. When you’re ready, I’ll be in the sitting room. It’s right off the main entrance. If you can’t find it, just holler.”
After she left, I took a minute to unpack. I hung some of my work clothes and the summer dress I’d also bought in Vegas in the armoire. I left the sparkly dress Rafe had broken the straps on at the bottom of the suitcase, but longing hit me in the stomach all over again thinking of the moment he’d snapped them. My body practically quivered at the memory. I’d wanted him so desperately. Desperately enough to almost beg for his touch.
Thank God we hadn’t been able to finish. If remembering a heated make-out session could still cause my knees to wobble, what would the memory of having him inside me be like? It might have ruined sex for me for the rest of my life.
And why the hell was I wasting time thinking of him again?
I jerked myself out of the reverie and took my makeup bag into the small bath. With the stall shower, pedestal sink, and a toilet all but touching one another, you could tell it was a renovated closet, but it was still charming. The low ceiling made me feel like a giant when my five-foot-six-inch height was nothing more than average.
After splashing water on my face and pulling my long bob that flirted just past my chin back into a clip, I headed for the door. Taking a ride over new terrain bursting with color and sounds and sunshine was just what I needed to forget everything that had happened in Vegas—or at least everything that had happened with a certain brown-haired, chocolate-eyed asshole. The twenty-five-thousand-dollar prize money I’d earned and a great-grandmother who might have been a jewel thief would require more thought.