Chapter Three – Me
Chapter Three
Andie
ME
Performed by Kelly Clarkson
Fall might have officially arrived last week, and the trees might be wearing their autumn foliage, but it still felt like summer in the Sierra foothills as I galloped Queen Elizabeth up a steep slope. At the crest, I pulled her to a stop, both of us breathing hard.
The magnificence of the view helped shake loose the last dregs of the nightmare that had woken me this morning.
The Harrington Ranch spread below me, traveling from the snow-tipped mountains and fall-speckled forests down to the meadows and farmland.
Rows of carefully tended crops were splintered by the three rivers crisscrossing the property before dropping into Crystal Lake.
The roan and I watched as the rising sun turned the clouds into feathery sweeps of cotton candy and sent pixie-dust-like sparkles over the lake’s glassy surface.
It was a similar sunrise to the one I’d watched the day I’d first arrived here, applying for a job I wasn’t sure I was qualified to get.
But the ranch’s quirky mix of English manor, California farm, Sierra lodge, and Vegas casino had wormed its way into my heart and made me determined to prove I’d do whatever it took to help the place thrive.
I was damn proud of having done just that.
I stroked Q.E.’s silky coat. While the horse wasn’t mine, she was the first one I’d ever truly loved. She’d been a rescue, coming to us malnourished and afraid of raised hands, but now she practically glowed, spirit all but pouring from her.
“Let’s go, girl,” I murmured, steering her gently back toward the hotel and outbuildings.
My heart caught, as it always did, once I crested another hill and brought the Victorian Gothic Revival castle the Harrington ancestors had built in the 1930s into eyesight.
The curls and flourishes along the golden gables and towers gleamed with an elegant strength mirrored in the iconic, animated centaur fountain in the circular drive.
Q.E. and I headed for the barn, which was already bustling with activity as guides prepped for the morning excursions.
Not a hint of the fire that had threatened to take down the entire building over a year ago remained.
We’d rebuilt fast and efficiently. Just like we’d replaced the single cabin, that had burned down several years ago, with three gorgeous ones down by the river’s edge which were now some of our most requested reservations.
Chuck hurried over to me, grabbing the saddle as I lifted it off Q.E.
’s back. He was one of the youngest guides at the ranch—another of the ranch’s rescues.
When he insisted on rubbing the horse down for me, I gave the roan a sugar cube that she nuzzled from my palm and then strode out of the barn toward the back door of the castle.
I slipped into the locker room in the old servant quarters, stripped off the jeans and boots I’d worn for the ride, bundled my hair under a shower cap, and stepped into the steady stream.
I was determined to let the hot water work out the last remaining remnants of the nightmare.
But as I lathered the hotel’s exclusive soaps over my body, the scars—and the memories they carried—fought me.
I wasn’t sure what had triggered the vicious dream.
Maybe it had been the call from Dawson last week that had turned out to be nothing more than his usual check-in.
Or maybe it had been the combination of his call and my run-in with Cooper Wylee over Luca.
But more likely, it was the half-dozen messages the sheriff had left since then, demanding I respond to him.
The calls had felt…overwhelming and borderline obsessive. Or perhaps it was just me projecting the horror of the last man I’d thought was movie-star perfect onto the sheriff.
The wild pulse of attraction I felt when Cooper was around was just another reminder that my instincts weren’t to be trusted when it came to men. Even if he’d denied hitting his son, and Luca’s sheepishness had backed him up, the fear I’d seen in the boy’s eyes had been all too familiar.
I shook my head. Let it go. That was what I needed to do.
I dressed quickly in black slacks, a white shirt, and red peep-toe heels before covering the freckles and faint scars on my face with light makeup. I shoved my riding clothes in the bag I’d brought with me and strode down the corridor to my office, surprised to find Fallon and Olivia already there.
My boss had a tablet in one hand while she tugged at her blond hair, twined in an intricate fishtail braid, with the other.
Fallon wore jeans, a plaid shirt, and ancient cowboy boots.
It was a uniform she rarely deviated from.
No one meeting her for the first time would ever expect the twenty-seven-year-old to be an heiress to not only the Harrington estate but also a portion of her father’s global hospitality business.
Her sharp, hazel eyes scanned me as I came in, and I apologized for being late.
“You’re not late. I’m early, so I asked Olivia to take me through the winter ads.” She handed the tablet back to our tiny, dark-haired PR manager. “They look good. I love the idea of tying in our winter festivities with the Golden Hero charity event and the tree lighting downtown.”
Olivia flushed with pleasure. “Thanks.”
“I told you she’d like it,” I told Olivia. “You’ve really done an incredible job with the communication about our events this year. Are you sure you don’t want to try your hand at the events coordinator position?”
She shook her head. “I’m sure. I’m not ready to put in the wild hours the job requires. I like getting home at a decent hour to the hubster and our baby.”
An unexpected ache ran through me. Olivia’s baby was a year old, and Fallon had a seven-year-old she and her husband had adopted, a two-and-a-half-year-old, and a five-month-old baby. Once upon a time, I’d thought I’d have at least three children. Maybe four. Now I’d never have kids.
Olivia gathered her things and headed for the door. “I’ll get to work on the ads and the flyers. Good luck with the interviews today, Andie.”
Fallon sat on the arm of one of the wingback chairs, like a hawk, perching momentarily on a branch, ready to take off on the next breeze.
I wasn’t sure she ever really stopped. When she’d returned from college three years ago, I’d been worried she’d see me as redundant and take over the role as both the resort’s manager and event coordinator that her mother had slowly handed over to me.
But instead, we’d found a way to balance each other out.
“Are you joining me for the interviews?” I asked.
She grimaced. “No, I’ll let you narrow it down. Once you have someone you like, I can meet with them and give you my two cents.” She studied me with eyes that always saw too much, similar to Luca Wylee’s eyes last week. “Are you okay?”
Sometimes, that look she gave me, coupled with the troubles Fallon had experienced in her own life, tempted me to tell her the truth. To open up to a friend. But those moments were brief and easily squashed.
“Of course. I’m just running through interview questions in my head.”
“I feel like we haven’t had as much time together this year. With you absorbed in the new house and me absorbed with the baby, we’ve been going in different directions. It’s time you, me, and Maisey have a girls’ night.”
The forced smile became real. “I’d really love that.”
When she nodded and strode out, the room felt quiet and still.
I turned my attention to my work, clicking through emails and reviewing interview questions, until Michelle from the front desk buzzed me to say the first applicant had arrived.
The mansion’s grand entrance still had the ability to take my breath away whenever I walked into it.
With its dark paneling, embossed copper-tile ceiling, chandelier dripping with crystals, and sweeping red-carpeted staircase, it reminded me of that iconic scene in Gone with the Wind at Rhett’s mansion.
Scarlett might not have gotten her man, but she’d had Tara.
I might not own a single piece of the Harrington Ranch, but it still felt like I’d made it mine.
In the reception area, with its hand-carved mahogany desk, English manor furniture, and fresh flowers, the first applicant sat, nervously tapping a foot.
I greeted her and led the way to the staff conference room, where its centuries-old table and chairs were more reminders of the importance of my task.
The ranch had a legacy that I was helping to preserve, and whoever took the events coordinator position needed to understand and honor it as well.
I looked across the table to where narrow brown eyes watched me. For a brief second, panic flared, bringing with it a sensation that made no sense—the feeling of being under a microscope that I’d lived with every day during those last few months before Eddie’s death.
It had to be the nightmare still playing tricks on me, because this woman was nothing like Eddie’s sister, Marla.
Misty Lane was intensely lean and toned, whereas Marla had been soft, round, and extremely overweight.
Misty wore a classy emerald-green shift dress, whereas Marla had always worn ragged men’s sweats.
And Misty’s slick midnight-black hair, pulled back in a classic chignon, was a far cry from Marla’s messy brown curls.
And yet, I still felt unsettled. I flicked open her file, scanning it in an attempt to center myself.
Misty was forty years old, from the East Coast, and a recent transplant to California. She had an impressive résumé and an almost lyrical voice instilled with self-assurance.
After a few cursory questions that seemed to ease us both, I asked, “What brings you to Swift Rivers, Misty?”
“Family.”
“Oh, does your family live here?” I flipped through the file, looking for an address or a name in town that I’d recognize.
When I looked up, a flicker crossed her face that had something tugging at me again before it was wiped away by her smile.
“My aunt is looking to relocate too. We both needed a change after too many years in the big city. We love to hike and snowboard and wanted a location where we could do both. When I saw your job listing, it felt like kismet.”
“What’s your backup plan if we don’t hire you?”
Her smile grew. “You will.”
While her confidence might have been off-putting to others, it reminded me of Fallon. Brash and strong, going for what she wanted. I could imagine they’d get along well.
I smiled back and said, “So tell me why I should.”
And she did. It wasn’t just the things I could read for myself in her résumé. It was clear she knew events, especially weddings, which would be the largest part of her job here. She’d handled celebrity events in the past and had a keen eye for color and style in the portfolio she showed me.
She teased and joked her way through the interview. Calm and mild, even in this stressful situation. As much as I tried to hold back, I found myself liking her and wanting to offer her the job, regardless of the four other applicants I had scheduled.
By the time I was walking her out front, we were bonding over celebrity mishaps and grooms caught in bed with members of the wedding party.
At the mammoth, carved double doors, I shook her hand.
“I’ve got four more applicants to see today, Misty, but I’ll be honest and say that you’ve set the bar impossibly high for them.”
Her eyes sparkled. “I’m glad. I can see us doing unforgettable things here.”
And even after an entire day spent interviewing people, it was Misty’s words that stuck with me, just as it was her confidence that I liked most.
It had taken me years to get my confidence back after it had been ripped away, and I’d sworn I’d never lose it again.
Not for a man or a job. Not for anything.
So, when I picked up the phone to call Fallon, I knew I’d go to bat for Misty, no matter what my boss thought, but I was hoping she’d see the same good things in the woman as I had.