Sunset Surrender. Charlene Sands
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She didn’t want to cry in front of him. “In here, I think.”
He followed her, and then set the boxes on the floor by the long three-drawer dresser. Sunlight streamed inside and cast a golden glow on the room. “Wow, looks like a daisy patch in here.”
Sophia smiled. “My mother loved daisies. They were her favorite flower.” And the room, decorated with white eyelet curtains covered with teensy daisies and a bedspread of creams and buttercup yellows, depicted that love. “My mama liked things bright. That’s how she viewed the world.”
Hunter didn’t say anything about that. He finished unloading her car and she thanked him for his help. Once she was alone, she sat down on the bed. The curtains were crisp, the bedspread fluffy. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. Everything was in good condition—too good to have been left uncared for all this time. Someone had made sure these things were well preserved. And she had a feeling that someone had been Randall Slade.
He was still taking care of her, even from the grave.
After half an hour of unpacking, the doorbell chimed. It was the same singsong melody that she’d remembered. Curious, she walked to the door and looked through the peephole. An older woman stood on the cottage threshold holding a lovely vase of pink roses and greenery.
Sophia opened the door.
“Ms. Montrose?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, I’m Sophia Montrose.”
“I’m Ruth Polanski. I’ve come to welcome you to Sunset Lodge.”
Sophia shuddered. Ruth Polanski, the manager of the lodge? This was the woman she would have to let go. She wasn’t ready for this. She hadn’t had time to figure out a way to give the woman the bad news. If Logan sent her over here …
“Would you like to come inside?”
“Just for a minute,” the silver-haired woman said. “I’m off duty now and don’t want to impose. But I wanted to meet you and give you something to warm your home.” She handed Sophia the lovely flower-filled vase. “Welcome,” she said, her kind eyes crinkling with her smile.
Sophia held the vase in one hand and gestured for her to enter with the other. Her heart raced. She didn’t know if she could do this. And she wondered why Luke hadn’t mentioned having to fire an elderly woman in order to take her position as manager. Surely, her friend would have known the delicate position this placed her in. “Thank you. They are beautiful.”
“I hope you don’t mind me coming over here so quickly. Hunter stopped by and gave me the news and I was very anxious to meet you. I’ve managed the lodge for eight years now.”
“Oh, uh, yes. Logan informed me of that today.”
“I can’t tell you how happy I am. I mean, I am sad that Mr. Slade passed on. He was a good man—tough but good—and I promised him something when his heart started failing last year.”
“Oh?”
Ruth Polanski stood in the middle of the parlor, looking slightly relieved to be sharing this. “Well, he made me promise to stay on as manager until you came to take over.”
“He made you promise to stay?”
“That’s right. I’ve been itching to retire. Everybody on the ranch knows it, too. I’ve got three grandchildren and a husband who retired last year. But I wouldn’t go back on my promise and I never told a soul about our agreement. It’s the way he wanted it. Mr. Slade’s been good to me, and Logan, well, he’s a saint in man’s clothing.”
Had she been sipping a drink, Sophia would have choked hearing those last words.
“Are you saying you want to quit your position as manager?” Sophia was catching on, and her anger was kicking up steam faster than a whistling tea kettle.
“Why, yes. Didn’t Logan tell you? I’ve been waiting for you to arrive. Of course, I won’t leave you high and dry. I’ll stick around until you get the hang of our operation here.”
“Th-thank you.”
“Very welcome. It’s not too much different than when you were living here. The lodge still has a great reputation for service and accommodations, and we have the same festivities and trail rides in the spring and summer months that we’ve always had. I’m sure you know all of this. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be happy to show you the ropes. And once I’m gone, Logan will be able to answer any questions you have.”
Sophia smiled sweetly. The sainted man would soon get an earful from her. Sophia wasn’t good at playing the victim. She would find a way to get even with Logan Slade for deliberately misleading her. From now on, she would keep her guard up around him. “Yes, Mrs. Polanski, once you’re gone, I’m certain Logan will be answering to me.”
Two
Morning sunlight beamed in through the daisy-print curtains in a cheerful greeting Sophia wasn’t quite ready for. Waking up in her mother’s old room, her hazy disorientation didn’t last long as her eyes focused and she remembered where she was and that today was the start of her new life. The sun’s warmth soaked into her bones and helped soothe away her anger at Logan Slade. Thanks to him, she’d had a hard time falling asleep last night. He’d made sure her homecoming wasn’t a thing of dreams. Wouldn’t he love to know that Sophia had had her own doubts about moving back here. That she feared that her old surroundings would cause her pain. That maybe she couldn’t handle this big a job as well as her mother had. If determination had anything to do with success, then Sophia wouldn’t have a worry, because above all else, she would see this through. But doubts still had a way of creeping in after all the mental pep talks faded away.
Six weeks ago, she wouldn’t have pictured herself back on Slade land, living at the cottage where she’d grown up and being part owner of glorious Sunset Lodge. The elder Slade and her mother had left this earth just a few months apart and somewhere in the back of her mind, she believed that Louisa and Randall were together now, bonded by love and reunited in spirit. That thought comforted Sophia as she lifted her arms through the sleeves of her flowery silk robe and padded from the soft bedside carpeting onto the stone floor that led to the kitchen.
Sophia had always loved the open-air feel to the kitchen, the large picture window, wood-beam ceilings and textured archways that separated the room from the parlor. The countertops were not built of modern stone, but made with small tiles in varying soft shades of tans and creams. The cabinets were buttercup yellow and the appliances were pristine with analog controls that suited Sophia just fine. She knew every drawer, every cabinet. Everything had been preserved as it once was.
It was too easy to slip back into a time when she’d been happy, when her mother was alive, and when she’d felt free of danger.
A shudder tingled along her spine and thoughts popped into her head of her showgirl days in Las Vegas when she had reason not to feel safe. Just then, she glanced out the window and saw a black-and-white Border collie racing by the cottage. The dog clenched a wooden spatula dripping with something she hoped was lemon batter in his mouth. A dark-haired boy chased him, calling out, “Blackie, come back!”
Sophia chuckled at the scene straight out of a Saturday-morning cartoon. She went to the front door and stepped onto her porch. She spotted the back end of Blackie as he raced around the cottage, tail wagging, seeming to enjoy the sport. The little boy, on the other hand, red-faced from exertion and slowing down, looked ready for the game to end.
Sophia went down the steps and hid behind the front wall, listening for the patter of four paws hitting the ground. Just as the dog turned the corner, Sophia crouched down, surprising the animal. But Blackie was too quick for her. As she lunged, he did a last-second side shuffle and maneuvered away, trotting past her. “Blackie, you stop right now!”
The dog immediately froze, the lemon batter dripping from his mouth, his big brown eyes—dark and innocent—watching her with a curious stare. His little game was over.