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 recognized her. Reid had bumped into Scarlett at her great-uncle’s funeral back when he’d been in high school. His looks must have changed, too, because she acted as if they’d never met.
“You’re an old fuddy-duddy,” Amelia said to Emmett. “I don’t know why I ever thought you were a catch back in the day.”
“You’ve messed with this town plenty,” Emmett said. “Can’t you leave it and me alone?”
“You enjoy me fussing over you,” she said.
Emmett shook his head. “You should know better than to tie yourself to a corpse.”
Amelia stamped her foot. “If you’re so determined to die, hand over your shotgun and I’ll put you out of your misery.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” he said. “With me out of the way you’d turn Stampede into a three-ring circus.”
“I better intervene before one of them gives the other a heart attack.” Scarlett approached the couple. “Isn’t it past your bedtimes?”
“We’re too excited about the baby to sleep,” Amelia said.
Emmett handed Scarlett a cell phone. “Gunner called and said he emailed photos of the baby, but I can’t get into my phone.”
Reid pulled his iPhone from his pocket and checked his text messages. Nothing—not that he’d expected his brother to share the happy news with him. He put the phone away and waited for the right moment to step out of the shadows.
“Emmett’s phone is password protected and he forgot the password,” Amelia said. “He thinks Gunner wrote it down on a sticky note and put in the office desk.”
“He did,” Scarlett said. “I saw the note. It said ‘password.’”
Emmett nodded. “Good. Tell me what the password is.”
“Password,” Scarlett said.
“That’s what I’m asking you.” Emmett looked at Amelia. “Is your niece hard of hearing?”
Amelia shoved her elbow into Emmett’s side. “The password is ‘password,’ you old fool.”
“‘Password’?” His grandfather harrumphed. “That’s a stupid word for a password.”
“Gunner assumed it would be easy for you to remember.” Amelia spoke to her niece. “Lowercase?”
“Capital P and the rest is lowercase,” Scarlett said.