in the day, but each time they’d stopped for a break, Reid had been distracted. Twice the dog had bolted from the truck when Jessie opened the door and they’d had to capture him. Then Jessie had asked for a snack from a vending machine that ate her money. And the bathrooms at two of the rest stops had been out of order, requiring a detour.
Soft snoring sounds drifted into his ear and he glanced into the back seat. Fang slept soundly in the dog bed on top of the luggage. The five-year-old shorthaired golden Chihuahua with half its teeth missing had belonged to the Valentines—the elderly foster parents who’d taken Jessie in after Stacy died. According to the couple, Fang and Jessie had a special bond, which Reid had witnessed when the mutt escaped the yard and chased his pickup down the street after they’d driven off earlier in the day. When they’d returned the dog to its owners, Jessie had begun crying and then so did Mrs. Valentine. Finally, Mr. Valentine shoved the mutt into Reid’s arms and said, “He’s Jessie’s now.”
The three of them were an unlikely family, but... Reid lost his thought when the word family reverberated inside his head again. The Hardells had been no more or no less dysfunctional than most families but Reid had decided in the military that he’d never marry or have kids. He didn’t want to be a dad. After the way his father had treated him, he had no idea how to nurture a kid’s mental or emotional well-being.
So much for the promise you made yourself.
Reid gripped the wheel tighter as he drove past his family’s rural property. He had tried to earn his father’s approval by showing an interest in his dad’s hobby—working on car engines. All he’d gotten for his efforts had been a dressing-down. Reid had developed a real aptitude for mechanics and by the age of seventeen he’d fixed engines his father hadn’t been able to get running—still his old man had always found fault with Reid’s work.
After he left the military, he’d landed a job as a mechanic for a trucking company in Duke City and had made a life for himself away from his family. A life that had been turned around when a social worker in El Paso informed him that he might be the biological father of a twelve-year-old girl.
A beacon of light appeared up ahead—the Moonlight Motel. A full moon spun in a slow circle atop a forty-foot pole and the word Vacancy glowed blue against the white backdrop. Last summer Gunner had texted Reid the link to the Moonlight’s website and Reid had viewed before-and-after pictures of the newly renovated motel.
He turned into the lot, surprised to see vehicles in front of the rooms. Years ago, the motel had sat empty most days. He parked by the office and shut off the engine. He didn’t notice anyone behind the check-in desk. Maybe Gunner was in the back playing video games or watching TV. He reached for his cowboy hat only to discover Fang had flipped it over and crawled inside the crown to sleep.
Great. His head would smell like dog the next time he wore the hat. He left the pickup, closing the door quietly. After hello, he had no idea what he’d say to his brother. His heart pounding like a jackhammer, he stared at his boots as he walked across the pavement.
The surge of adrenaline racing through his bloodstream caused him to pull the handle harder than he intended. The door flew open and a body slammed into his chest. His quick reflexes kicked in and he wrapped his arms around his assailant. When a pair of soft breasts pressed against him, he stumbled backward, his shoulder hitting the doorjamb.
“Oh, my, gosh.” The woman extricated herself from his hold and backed up. She brushed a lock of blond hair from her brown eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She flashed a smile. He’d seen a photo of Gunner’s wife and Lydia had long hair. This woman had really short hair. He opened his mouth to introduce himself, but Fang started yipping and barking and a moment later his daughter got out of the vehicle.
Jessie rubbed her eyes. “What’s going on?”
“We’re in Stampede.” Reid looked at the blonde. “My daughter and I need a room for the night if there’s one available.”
When Jessie fetched Fang from the back seat and attached his leash, the woman pointed to a pathway between the motel rooms and the office. “Follow the sidewalk. There’s a patch of grass back there.”
Left alone with the petite woman whose sultry eyes were way too big for her face, Reid apologized. “I’m sorry. You weren’t hurt, were you?”
“I’m fine.”
He preferred long hair on women but the shorter style with wispy bangs drew his attention to her pretty eyes and high cheekbones. When his gaze dropped to her mouth, her lips spread into a smile and Reid felt his body sway toward her.
A horn honked, startling him, and he jumped. He blamed the long day behind the wheel for his preoccupation with the pretty lady. He tore his gaze from her brown eyes and watched his grandfather’s jalopy pull into a parking space. The ancient pickup should have found its way to the junkyard a decade ago. This wasn’t how Reid imagined greeting his grandfather—in the wee-morning hours—after returning to town all these years.
The driver’s-side door opened and Emmett Hardell climbed out. A moment later Amelia Rinehart stepped from the passenger side. What was his grandfather doing at this late hour with the matriarch of Stampede? He studied the pair—they’d both aged.
That’s what happens when you don’t see people for over a decade.
“Good grief, Emmett.” Amelia shut her door. “Riding in your truck is like lying on a magic fingers vibrating bed.”
“What would you know about those kinds of beds?” the old man grumbled.
“You’d be surprised by how many I’ve slept in,” she said.
The couple faced off unaware of their audience. Amelia propped her fists on her hips and glared. “With the income Paradise Ranch made during the holidays you can afford to buy a new vehicle.”
“Be a waste of good money—” he lifted his leg and shook his foot “—when I got one boot in the grave already.”
“You’re too ornery to die.” Amelia narrowed her eyes. “Speaking of ornery...when are you going to approve my idea to reinstate the Stampede Rodeo and Spring Festival?”
“Never.”
“Why not?”
“Because every one of your bright ideas has cost me my privacy and peace of mind.”
“What little mind you have left doesn’t need any peace.”
Ouch. Reid listened to the couple spar, wondering why they were awake let alone out together past their bedtimes.
“Don’t worry,” the blonde whispered. “Those two banter back and forth all the time. Gunner says they’re in love and arguing is their version of foreplay.”
His grandfather loved the old woman? Reid’s grandmother had grown up with Amelia. The two women had been best friends most of their lives, but Emmett had never cared for the wealthy lady—at least not that Reid could remember. When Amelia had stopped by the ranch to check on the family after his grandma passed away, she’d always argued with Emmett.
“I should have introduced myself,” she said to Reid. “I’m Scarlett Johnson and that lady is my great-aunt.”
Scarlett Johnson. He hadn’t
