CHAPTER 48
Maddie
Do I care?
It’s a question I keep asking myself. For two weeks I’ve been frantic, nearly going crazy while getting everything ready for Elsie’s visit tomorrow, and the whole time Keegan and Josh have been texting me about Dad.
They haven’t seen or heard from him and the house is about to be foreclosed on.
It sounds bad, but to be honest, I have so much on my plate right now, I don’t have the time or energy to care.
I finished all my preparations yesterday.
I worked like a madwoman to get the presentation for the clothing line done early in case I wanted to make any last-minute changes.
So far, I’ve been over it a million times, and I can’t think of anything to add.
I feel good about it, and at the same time, I’m nervous as hell.
What if it isn’t what she’s expecting? Is she even looking for something specific?
I have no idea. I just hope she likes what I have to show her because if she doesn’t, it will be such a letdown.
In between juggling the store, sewing my heart out, and hunting down the bougiest dog treats I could barely afford, I asked around and learned that Mrs. Thatcher—a gray-haired woman well into her eighties—wants to retire if she can find someone to rent her shop.
It’s a tiny place at the end of Main Street.
She owns the building, which is probably how she’s managed to stay in business selling her antiques and knick-knacks.
I love the location, but it’s a little smaller than what I wanted.
Regardless, I think I can make it work, and the rent is reasonable.
I’m just glad I found a decent place to show Elsie.
Stacy started the sewing classes back up, and she’s done a great job with them. We’ve made sure there will be a full class going when Elsie tours the store.
I was finally able to talk to Ryleigh Bardot, the fashion student at the community college I’d been hearing about.
She showed me some of the dresses she’s made, and I couldn’t have been more impressed.
When I told her I needed someone to take over my side hustle, she practically screamed and gave me the biggest hug.
As a single mother trying to put herself through school, she’s had a hard time making ends meet.
When I told her I could send her all the work she could handle, she said it was a huge lifesaver.
It felt good to be able to help someone in her situation.
So, as it stands now, every inch of the store has been cleaned, and it looks immaculate.
I have two full racks of pants and shirts on display at the front of the shop.
Hopefully, they’ll still be there when Elsie makes it here.
I’d love to sell some during her visit so she can talk to actual customers. That would be a bonus.
Meanwhile, I talked to Rhonda this morning and she told me she’s dating Top now.
I was beyond shocked at that revelation, and a little mad at her when she wouldn’t tell me why she ended things with Ash.
She said it was too embarrassing to talk about and that only made me more curious.
What could be so embarrassing that Rhonda Hargrove, of all people, didn’t want to talk about it?
She’s never been bashful about anything.
I didn’t ask, but she said Riggs is fine and that they might be coming home soon.
She made it sound like the trip will be done in a week, then it will take another week to get all the equipment ready to be shipped back to Los Angeles.
For a minute, I got excited to see her again, but then she gave me the bad news.
Instead of coming home, she’s going straight to California with Top.
It was hard to be upset about it when she was so excited to be going to Hollywood.
In the end, I decided I was going to be happy for her.
I’m guessing Ash and Riggs will go to Colorado.
It’ll be hard to think of him being back and only a short flight away.
I wonder when his next trip will be. Will he be home for three months, or will it be longer?
I guess the real question is, will he start dating again as soon as he gets home?
Probably. I try not to let it bother me, but the thought of him with another woman feels like fire coursing through my veins.
Who knew I could be so petty? But I can’t help it. It’s how I feel.
It’s Tuesday evening, and I promised Keegan I would check the casino to see if Dad was there.
He and Josh are scrambling to start a big roofing job, otherwise they’d go themselves.
I understand the urgency. He and Josh want to get the important stuff out of the house before the bank takes it, but Dad changed the locks.
Who knows what’s going on with him? If I had to guess, dear ol’ Dad emptied his bank accounts and went to Las Vegas.
He always talked about wanting to make a trip there, saying his luck would change if he could sit at a table with players who don’t know him so well.
It’s a thirty-minute drive to the casino, and the whole way there, I can’t get the idea of Riggs dating other women out of my head.
The mere idea of it makes me so angry, and for the first time since we broke up, I’m wondering about dating other people myself.
I could meet guys and go out with them if I wanted to.
There’s nothing stopping me. Maybe I will.
Maybe that’s how I’ll finally get over Riggs.
As expected, I don’t see Dad in the poker room. I could leave, but I kind of want to play. There are three seats open at a one-two no-limit table. The max buy-in is only two hundred and I drove all this way, so why not?
I see a few familiar faces when I take my seat, including one I haven’t seen in years—MacLucifer! What’s he doing here?
Mason MacLoughlin, Chelsea Shackler’s older brother, was a senior when I was a sophomore. Seeing him sitting there, in his black Stetson cowboy hat, thick beard, black T-shirt, and always with a toothpick in his mouth, makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
He was big in high school, but he’s even bigger now, all muscle with broad shoulders and biceps that stretch the limits of his shirt sleeves. He always looked dangerous back when we were in high school, and he looks even meaner now. But we’re not kids anymore. Maybe he’s nicer as an adult?
I didn’t know him personally, but like everyone back then, I knew who he was and what he was capable of. The only person he had any respect for was his sister. Chelsea could lead him around like a bull with a ring in its nose. Everyone else just tried to stay clear of him.
He was always getting in fights, though never with anyone we knew.
The fights were always at football or basketball games with guys from the other school, sometimes two or three of them at a time.
To the best of my knowledge, he never lost. One time he even punched a police officer who was trying to break up his fight.
In Mason’s defense, he didn’t mean to, but I was at that football game, and the cop fell on his face, out cold.
That’s when everyone started calling him MacLucifer.
He must be in town to visit Chelsea. The last I heard, he bought a small ranch up in Wyoming with the money he made as a bull rider.
He was one of the top competitors in the nation, a national champion even.
That was before he injured his shoulder a few years ago.
He’s a roper now, a world-class heeler. If I didn’t know what he was like in high school, all I would see now is a famous cowboy who’s about as good-looking as Riggs.
There’s no ring on his finger. I wonder what he’s like now that he’s all grown up?
With my ass planted in my seat, I realize what this is. I’m trying to talk myself into being interested in the handsome cowboy. Maybe I could use a bad boy in my life right about now. I let out a sigh at that thought because the truth is, I’m not over Riggs. Not even close.
“You’re Maddie, Don’s daughter, right?” one of the other players, Mr. Lynch, asks.
He and his wife own the pharmacy on Main Street. I went to school with their daughter, Lindsay, who’s a veterinarian now. Her practice is next door to the pharmacy.
“That’s right. Have you seen him?”
A few chuckles erupt around the table.
“He went to Vegas a couple of weeks ago,” Mr. Lynch says. “We haven’t seen him since.”
“I thought that’s where he might have gone.”
The dealer’s button is past me now, and I’m dealt two cards, nine of spades and three of hearts. I toss them into the muck.
“Your ex has been here a lot lately,” Mr. Humphrey, another player, announces.
He has a hazelnut orchard outside of town and his wife comes into the shop to buy fabric at least once a week.
“Jake usually bounces back and forth between the craps table and poker room,” he adds.
“I saw him earlier. Thought you might want to know in case he shows up.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” I’m not sure how I’d feel about running into Jake. I know one thing for sure, I refuse to be afraid of him.
A guy I don’t know sitting to my right buys the pot with a big bet. Looks like he has a little over five hundred in front of him, more than anyone else at the table. That would make him the bully, because at a poker table, there’s always a bully.
It’s been about an hour, and I’m a little over a hundred dollars up. I still haven’t said a word to MacLucifer, and he hasn’t given any indication that he recognizes me, but I’m curious about him. “I watched you at nationals last year, Mason. Second place was amazing. Are you still roping?”
He looks at his cards and calls. Without looking at me, he says, “Nah, shoulder won’t let me.”