The Cowboy's Accidental Baby. Marin Thomas
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“I’m glad you three are close. I have fond memories of growing up with my sisters.” Amelia smiled. “We caused our fair share of trouble.”
“Grandma said you were the ringleader.”
Amelia laughed. “Sometimes, but not always. Your grandmother hogged the bathroom every morning and made us late for school most days.”
“I’m glad you kept this house after Uncle Robert passed away.”
“I’ll never forget the first time I met him,” Amelia said. “I was sweaty, dusty, and my hair windblown after chasing our hound dog all the way into town. Barney was an escape artist and Father threatened to get rid of him if we couldn’t keep him in the yard.” Amelia poked Lydia’s shoulder. “Your grandmother was supposed to watch him that day, but she’d snuck off with a girlfriend. Thank goodness I happened to step outside right when Barney chewed through his leash and ran off.”
Lydia had heard this story before from her grandmother but kept quiet so her great-aunt could spin her tale. “I looked like a rag doll by the time I found Robert sharing an ice-cream cone with Barney in front of the Woolworth building. I was about to call out for the dog when Robert glanced up and our gazes connected.”
“What did you think when you first saw Uncle Robert?”
“I’d never seen a more handsome, well-dressed man in my entire life.”
Lydia’s mother had told her that Uncle Robert had been an up-and-coming executive for Shell Oil when he’d passed through Stampede and had swept eighteen-year-old Amelia off her feet.
“I thanked him for entertaining Barney and went on my way. It wasn’t until later that I heard about an oilman checking out the area and learned that man was the one who’d caught Barney.” Amelia stared into space as if reliving the past, then blinked and smiled at Lydia. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with your boyfriend, Ryan.”
It had been over a year since the relationship had ended and Lydia was ready to move on. “I joined an online dating service.” She’d paid for the subscription a week before her aunt requested her help. Lydia had only had time to create her profile before packing her suitcase and driving south.
“The internet isn’t safe. A young girl as pretty as you should be able to find a man without the help of a computer.”
Lydia’s fingers curled into her palms. “It’s difficult to socialize and meet people when you’re on a tight budget and trying to get a business off the ground.”
“I don’t understand why you left the company you were working for. What was the name of that place? Design...”
“Design Logistics. I quit because I wanted control over my work.” What she’d really wanted was credit for her designs. Lydia’s boss, Ellen, hadn’t allowed her to meet with clients. It was by accident that she’d discovered Ellen had been taking credit for Lydia’s ideas. When she requested a raise and was turned down, she’d struck out on her own and learned the hard way that it wasn’t easy winning new clients when you had no references.
“What about meeting eligible bachelors through Sadie’s and Scarlett’s friends?” her aunt asked.
“It’s not easy finding someone you’re compatible with.”
“All this talk about compatibility is ridiculous. Your uncle and I were raised very differently, but we made it work.”
“I work out of my apartment, which makes it even more challenging to meet new people.” And to add salt to the wound, Lydia’s friends from college were all married and starting families. She was the odd woman out, resulting in awkward get-togethers when talk turned to babies, mortgages and the cost of day care.
“What kind of man interests you?”
“Aunt Amelia, I’d rather not talk about my dismal dating life.” She flashed a halfhearted smile. “Can we discuss why I’m here?” What she really needed to be doing was focusing her time and energy on building her client base.
Amelia pointed to the MacBook Air sitting on Lydia’s lap. “I have a business proposition for you.”
“You want to be one of my clients?”
Her aunt nodded.
Lydia glanced around the porch. “Are you thinking of updating the house?”
“No, I’d like you to renovate the old motel on the outskirts of town.”
“The Moonlight Motel?” The janky dump had seen its best years five decades ago. “I thought that place had shut down.”
“It’s still open...when the manager feels like flipping on the vacancy sign.” Amelia snorted. “Stampede is falling apart right before my eyes.”
Lydia’s grandmother had always wished her sister would leave “that godforsaken dusty hideaway for die-hard wranglers and has-been cowboys.”
“Stampede is losing tourist dollars to our neighbors in Rocky Point and Mesquite all because our mayor isn’t willing to put a little money and elbow grease into sprucing up the town.”
“Why the motel?”
“It’s the only place people can stay when they visit Stampede.”
“What shape is the building in?”
“The rooms haven’t been updated since the ’70s.”
“Do you have the approval of the owner to fix it up?”
“I do. And Emmett Hardell’s grandson will be helping you.”
“Which grandson?”
“Gunner manages the motel when he’s not off pretending he’s a rodeo cowboy.”
Lydia recalled the hot look Gunner had sent her in church during her uncle’s funeral. Later that day she’d overheard her mother and Aunt Amelia chatting about the Hardell boys. Her aunt had blamed their wild ways on the lack of a female influence in their lives. The boys’ mother had abandoned the family, and then a few years later their grandmother had passed away, leaving their “tomcatting” father and “irritable” grandfather—Aunt Amelia’s words—to raise the boys.
“How old is Gunner?”
“A year older than you, I believe.”
“As far as renovating the motel,” Lydia said, “you’re just looking to freshen up the paint colors and change the furniture and decor?”
“That’s right. And I’ll pay you for your work.”
“You don’t have to do that, Aunt Amelia.”
“Of course I do.”
Lydia breathed a sigh of relief, happy she wouldn’t have to dig into her dismal savings to cover the bills next month. “I should be able to handle the task.”
“I wouldn’t have asked you to take on this project if I didn’t believe you had the talent and skill to pull it off.”
“Let’s visit the motel in the morning and come up with a design plan.”
“You’ll have to go by yourself, dear. I have choir practice after church services.”
Lydia had forgotten that tomorrow was Sunday.
“As far as decorating ideas, I’m leaving that in your capable hands.”
“What’s my budget?”
“There is no budget. Do what needs to be done to turn the motel into a place people will drive out of their way to spend the night.”
“Are you covering the entire bill for this renovation?”
Her aunt nodded. “I’ve got more money than I know what to do with, Lydia.”
That