Chapter Eleven
Max had gone home and locked the door, too devastated by his encounter with Goldie earlier at the café to do more than flop down in his chair, his head in his hands.
Cordell had phoned, but he’d let the call go to voice mail.
He knew his brother thought he should stop Goldie from selling the café. If only it were that easy.
He couldn’t have asked Goldie not to sell the café.
He had no right. He couldn’t ask anything of her until he was ready to give her everything she wanted.
And, as much as he loved her, he wasn’t sure he could do that.
For months he’d fought his feelings for Goldie, telling himself that in time he would get over her and she would do the same.
Clearly, she’d come to the same conclusion he had. The two of them couldn’t go on like this.
He felt worse than when he’d broken it off with her.
He’d known she would find someone else someday, but he’d never thought she’d ever sell her café.
He thought again of their run-in earlier.
He’d known Goldie wasn’t going to want to hear what he had to say, but he hadn’t expected the reaction he’d gotten.
She’d been so angry even before he’d told her what he’d found out. Was this about her selling the café? Was she having second thoughts? Or was this about Donovan Cole? She couldn’t have fallen in love with him this quickly, could she?
Noticing the time, he realized she would have signed the paperwork by now. Unless she changed her mind. That thought gave him hope. His phone pinged. He quickly glanced at the screen and the text from Josie.
It’s done.
He felt as if the ground beneath him had given way. As if his heart couldn’t have felt more broken, he went into the kitchen and took out another beer. He normally didn’t drink to excess, but nothing was normal about this night.
A couple of beers later, he couldn’t stand staying in the house.
He walked toward the sheriff’s department but as he reached the main drag, he saw Goldie and Donovan crossing the street to his sports car.
He watched the man toss her the keys. Once behind the wheel, she freed her hair from the ponytail, shaking it out, and moments later backed up the car and took off as if being chased by the cops.
With a curse, he turned, only to collide with his brother.
“I was going to offer you a drink but clearly you’ve had a few,” Cordell said, steadying him.
Max watched Goldie drive off with the top down and the man in the passenger seat, her blond hair blowing back in a golden wave as she sped out of Dry Gulch as if never coming back.
“You weren’t planning to chase the two of them down, were you?” his brother asked, looking askance.
“I’m not sure what I’d planned to do,” he had to admit.
“Come on, bro. You look like hell,” Cordell said, guiding Max back home. Once seated, a cup of coffee in Max’s hand, a beer in Cordell’s, he said, “You told her about Malcolm Mandeville, didn’t you.”
Max nodded miserably. “I went over to the café to see her, knowing she would be there. I told her what I’d found out about Arnie and Donovan. She was so angry all I could do was get out of there. She hates me.” He sighed. “The worst part is that I don’t blame her.”
His brother said nothing for a moment. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I can’t keep doing this. I’m going to have to quit my job and leave Dry Gulch.”
“So much more sensible than admitting you were wrong and begging her to come back to you,” Cordell said. “It isn’t like you’d give her a thought once you left town and settled somewhere else. When are you going to admit that you love her and want to be with her come hell or high water?”
“It’s not that easy.”
His brother laughed. “Since when has love been easy? Look at me and Josie. I had to prove to her that I was worthy of her love. Or I could have gotten my back up and made us both miserable because of my huge ego.”
Max shot his brother a warning look. “It’s not about my ego.”
Cordell laughed. “Keep telling yourself that. You broke up with her, telling yourself you were taking the high road. How could she want to make a life with the likes of you? The stepson of an abusive psycho killer?”
“He wasn’t legally our stepfather.”
As if ignoring the interruption, his brother continued.
“Then you blamed your job. What if, because of your dangerous job, you got killed or put her in danger again? Come on, Max, you could be hit by a little red sports car speeding through town and die. I could have a beam fall on me during construction over at the hotel.”
He took a sip of the coffee, made a face and said nothing.
“When you broke up with her, you thought you were doing her a favor. Instead, all you did was make you both miserable.”
“She doesn’t seem all that miserable with Donovan Cole,” Max said stubbornly.
Cordell shook his head. “Take the real high road. Admit your mistake. Make it right. Marry the woman.”
“It’s too late. I should have stopped her from selling the café.”
“The only way you could have done it was to admit how you feel about her and give her the one thing she’d always wanted,” Cordell said.
“She waited years for you to ask her to marry you only for you to break it off. She’s hurt and with good reason.
” He shook his head. “You’re going to need a huge gesture to get her to trust you again, and brother, that’s going to involve a ring. ”
“What if she really has moved on?”
“Well, give it enough time and she will,” his brother said. “You don’t believe you deserve to be happy. Seems you got that from our mother.”
“Not the same thing at all,” Max snapped.
“Isn’t it? She married our abusive so-called stepfather and let him almost kill us because she believed she’d made her bed and had to lie in it. Same ridiculous excuse.”
Max took another sip of the strong black coffee, hating that his brother might be right. Their mother had dug her heels in even when she could see what a terrible mistake she’d made.
At the sound of a sports car pulling back up in front of the hotel, he felt a wave of relief. Goldie had come back.
“At least think about what I said,” Cordell said and finished his beer. “I have to go. Josie’s waiting for me.”
Now partially sober, Max couldn’t think about anything but Goldie being in danger. He had to find out what both Donovan and Arnie were up to and how Malcolm Mandeville was involved. He had to save Goldie—if it wasn’t too late.
Even then it was going to take a miracle. He couldn’t imagine a gesture amazing enough to get Goldie back. He felt as if he’d already lost her.
But his brother was right. He had to try to not just save her—but save the two of them. Maybe their story wasn’t over, he thought, feeling the first ray of hope he’d felt in months.
LOLLY MANDEVILLE KNEW something was wrong when she returned home the next morning. She found her brother, Bobby, at the dining room table having breakfast alone. She took a seat and helped herself to coffee, then thought of the baby and helped herself to some of the scrambled eggs and a Danish.
Bobby looked nervous so she knew something had had happened in her absence. “I know you listen at Dad’s office door, don’t pretend with me. What is his interest in Dry Gulch?” She knew there was more to it if Luca was excited about it. “Bobby,” she said in warning as she waved her fork at him.
It never took too much persuading to get the truth out of her brother, fortunately. But that was also why she worried he’d never be able to keep her secret.
“Arnie left. Dad bought him a café in some town in Montana. That’s all I know.”
She realized she hadn’t even noticed that Arnie was gone. It wasn’t like she ever went into the kitchen. Clearly someone was cooking back there, she thought, as she started to take a bite of her eggs. “Why would our father do that?”
Bobby shrugged. “Maybe he’ll tell you. He said he wanted to see you as soon as you returned.”
“Nice you got around to telling me that now.” She put down her fork, wiped her hands on the cloth napkin at her spot and said, “You didn’t—”
“—tell your secret? No.” He looked hurt that she would even think that he might have.
She studied him for a moment. Then, bracing herself, went to find her father. She knew from the men who came and went at the ranch that her father was connected to organized crime. She’d never really cared since it allowed her to live very well without having to ever get a job.
She found her father in his office on the third floor. He was standing at the window, looking out over the ranch—including the circular drive where she’d parked only minutes ago. “You wanted to see me?”
He turned slowly. Malcolm Mandeville was a big man with a thick head of dark hair streaked with gray and intense blue eyes.
That he was powerful showed in not just his physical appearance but his entire demeanor.
He ruled everything within his reach, including his family.
The only exception would be his daughter’s choice of men, she thought with a wry smile.
Not that he hadn’t tried to tell her who she could date. But she had always ignored him.
“I need you to do something for me,” he said, now motioning her into a chair as he sat down behind his huge desk.
He’d never involved her in his business, which was the way she wanted it. She could always pretend innocence if the FBI suddenly showed up at their front door with a search warrant. But something told her that was about to change.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked warily as she teetered on the edge of the chair in front of him.
“I need you to take a message to your boyfriend.”