McFarlane's Perfect Bride / Taming the Montana Millionaire: McFarlane's Perfect Bride. Teresa Southwick
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Connor’s been at the resort a lot. Chatting people up, nosing around. And Grant told DJ that Connor’s had dinner with Caleb Douglas out at the Douglas Ranch.” Caleb Douglas was co-owner of the resort. Grant Clifton managed the place, with help from Riley Douglas, Caleb’s son.
Tori frowned. “A takeover? I knew the resort was struggling lately. But would Caleb do that? The resort is his pride and joy.”
“Money’s short. Even the Douglases need to tighten their belts.”
“But I mean, would Caleb really sell?”
Allaire made a noncommittal noise in her throat. “Can’t say for sure. But something’s going on.”
“You’re going,” Connor said flatly. “And we’re late.”
CJ didn’t spare him so much as a glance. He was busy manipulating the black controller of his Xbox 360 Elite, wearing a headset so he could talk to whomever he was playing with online—and also shut his father out. On the flatscreen that took up half a wall of his bedroom, soldiers in WWII Army gear battled the Germans somewhere in a burned-out city in France. A tank lurched over rubble and belched fire as a building exploded and a couple of hapless Germans went flying in the air, faces contorted with fear.
Connor stood by the bed. His blood pressure had to be spiking. He wanted to shout, What the hell have you done with my son? He hardly knew this shaggy-looking, angry, sulky kid. The CJ he knew gazed at him with worshipful eyes and only wanted a chance to spend a little time with his busy, successful dad.
I will not shout. I will not rip those headphones off of his head.
Connor fisted his hands and counted to ten. And then he grabbed the TV remote off the bed and pointed it at the flatscreen.
The screen went black.
CJ slanted him a venomous look. “Turn it back on. Now.”
Connor did nothing of the sort. With a calmness he didn’t feel, he reached out and gently pulled the headset from CJ’s ears. “I told you we were going to the big summer kickoff barbecue.” The barbecue, at DJ’s Rib Shack up at the resort, presented a useful opportunity to get more face time with people he needed to know better—family and otherwise. “Your Aunt Melanie and Uncle Russ are going. Ryan, too.” Ryan Chilton, Russ’s son from his first marriage, was thirteen.
CJ groaned and tossed the controller aside. “I’m not babysitting Ryan.”
“No one said anything about babysitting. You will, however, behave in a civilized manner and treat your aunt and her family with respect.”
“I hate that kind of crap. ‘Big summer kickoff barbecue.’“ He chanted the words in an angry singsong. “Big whoop.”
Again, Connor reminded himself that shouting and threats had so far gotten him nowhere. He spoke with deadly mildness. “Fine. Stay home if you like. Stay home all summer. In this room. With no electronics.”
CJ blinked. “You would ground me forever for missing some dumb barbecue?”
“Try me.”
CJ glared at him. Connor stared steadily back.
And then, at last, CJ put down the remote. “Fine. Let’s go.” He jumped to his feet and headed for the door in his sloppy skater gear, which included ripped-out, sagging jeans, a wrinkled plaid shirt over a T-shirt that had seen better days. And dirty old-school tennis shoes with the laces undone.
Connor reminded himself that the barbecue was casual and he didn’t have time for a wardrobe battle.
CJ stopped in the doorway and turned with a glare. “Well? You coming or not?”
Connor straightened his sport jacket and gave a brisk nod. “Absolutely. I am right behind you.”
The resort was packed. People spilled out of the Rib Shack and filled up the huge central lobby of the main clubhouse.
Connor spotted Melanie, Russ and Ryan over by the lobby’s natural-stone fireplace, which was on a grand scale, like the rest of the clubhouse. Big enough to roast a couple of steers inside and still have room for an elk or three.
He hooked an arm around CJ’s shoulders to keep him from slipping off and worked his way through the crowd, spreading greetings as he went. Melanie saw him just before he reached her. She smiled and waved, her sleek red hair shining in the afternoon sun that beamed down from the skylights three stories overhead and flooded in the soaring wall of windows with its amazing view of the white-capped peak of Thunder Mountain.
She was a fine woman, his sister. And forgiving. All those years he’d looked down on her. And still, she’d welcomed him to her new hometown and seemed to want only to let bygones be bygones. She made him feel humble, an emotion with which he’d had no relationship until recently.
Russ gave him a cool nod. Ryan’s face split in a happy grin at the sight of his older cousin.
CJ squirmed a little under Connor’s firm grip and said loudly, “Well, we’re here. Can we eat?”
Ryan nodded eagerly. “In the Rib Shack. Come on, I’ll show you …”
Connor hesitated to let go of his son. “Stay in the building.”
“Sheesh, Dad. Awright, awright.”
“Stay with Ryan.”
“I will, I will.”
Melanie caught his eye. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
Russ spoke to Ryan. “Get us a table if you can.”
“We will, Dad. Come on, CJ.” He bounded off through the crowd, headed for the Rib Shack. CJ followed, kind of shuffling along. Watching them go, Connor actually found himself envying Russ his happy, upbeat son.
Russ was watching the boys, too. “Job’s still open,” he said in that cryptic way he had.
The job in question was for CJ. Russ and Melanie had offered to hire him part-time for the summer, to work at Melanie’s guest ranch, the Hopping H. Russ thought a few hours a day mucking out stables or doing dishes in the ranch house would be good for him.
When Russ had made the initial offer, Connor had turned him down flat. The McFarlane offspring did not do dishes or clean up horse manure. Plus, at that point, Connor had still nurtured the fond hope that CJ might spend his summer catching up on his schoolwork. Just weeks before, the boy had almost been booted out of his expensive New York boarding school due to his suddenly plummeting grades.
However, in the eleven days they’d been in Thunder Canyon, Connor had not seen his son so much as pick up a book. CJ rode his skateboard around town, disappearing for hours at a time, worrying Connor half out of his mind. When he wasn’t vanishing into thin air, he sat in his room and played video games.
Connor had started to wonder if he should reconsider Russ’s job offer. He asked ruefully, “Mind if I think it over a little?”
Russ and Melanie shared a glance. And Russ answered in a neutral tone. “Take your time. The job will be there if you want him to have it.”
A big hand clapped Connor on the back. “Glad you came. Good to see you.”
He turned and greeted Caleb Douglas and his wife, Adele. Silver-haired with cool green eyes, Caleb had suffered poor health in recent years. He still had a booming voice and a hearty manner, but Connor could see the weariness in his face, the deep lines around his eyes. He was half owner of the resort, which meant he would feel duty-bound to show up for big events like this one.
But his heart wasn’t in it anymore. And times were tougher than they had been. Caleb could be convinced to sell. And Connor’s extensive research into the matter had led him to believe that Caleb’s silent partner would go along with whatever Caleb decided.
Yeah, Caleb would sell. Hopefully, before the summer was out.
And