Cain named a sum that made her head swim. Maybe she had misunderstood. “Are you . . . are you sure?”
“If it isn’t enough—”
“No! That . . . that isn’t what I meant. I meant are you certain you want to take that kind of risk on an unknown commodity like me?”
He smiled, and a soft flutter rose in her stomach. “I like the way this place operates,” he said. “I like that the locals come here as well as the tourists. That means you’re doing a good job. It also means you’re an accepted part of the community. That’s what I want for the Grandview.”
“You were raised in Jerome. You’ll be accepted as a local.”
Cain shook his head. “I’ve never been accepted. But that’s a story for another time. Do you want the job or not?”
She had offended him. She hadn’t meant to do that. “Would it be all right if I took a look at the hotel before I give you an answer? It’s been closed for three years. I’d like to see what I’m getting into.”
Cain relaxed. “Good idea. I should have thought of it myself. I’m liking this idea better and better. Do you have time to go now, or should I come back for you later?”
“I’m afraid I can’t go today. Tomorrow would work.”
“All right. What time shall I pick you up?”
“We’ve got a shift change at five. I usually take a break about then.”
Cain nodded. “Fine. I’ll be here tomorrow at five.”
“It’s only up the hill,” Jenny said. “I’ll just walk.”
Something that might have been irritation—or maybe it was amusement—touched his lips. Clearly Cain Barrett wasn’t used to someone else calling the shots. Jenny wondered if taking the job would be a mistake.
Cain shoved his big frame up from the chair, and Jenny stood up, too. She hadn’t realized how much he would tower over her. She thought of Richard, but his abuse was mental, not physical.
“I look forward to seeing you tomorrow at five.” Cain turned and strode across the room. Liking the view, Jenny watched until he disappeared out the door.
* * *
The afternoon was coming to an end. Cain pulled his silver Dodge Ram 2500 diesel out of the parking lot of the Grandview Hotel, his most recent acquisition.
His grandmother was ailing. Nell Barrett had been in an assisted-living facility in Prescott for the last five years. Cain had always taken care of her needs, but her fondest wish was to return to Jerome, the place she had been born, the place she had lived with her late husband for forty-five years.
But Nell needed twenty-four-hour care. Which was the reason Cain had purchased the Grandview. For the last eight months, he’d had a construction crew remodeling the old hotel, turning it into what he hoped would be a profitable business and, more important, a place for his grandmother to spend the last years of her life.
As far as Cain was concerned, he owed Nell Barrett everything. He’d been four years old when his father had abandoned the family. A year later, his mother had dumped him with his grandmother and disappeared, too. It was Nell who had raised him, fed and clothed him, done her best to turn him into a decent human being.
He owed her for making him the man he had become and for everything he had accomplished. She wanted to spend her last years in Jerome.
By God, Cain would see that she got her wish.
He slowed the pickup to take the steep curve in front of him. There were thousand-foot drops off the edge of the narrow road. The drive wasn’t for the faint of heart.
Jerome sat at a 5,600-feet elevation. There were two ways in and out: one off Highway 17 or the shorter route back to his ranch, along a formidable switchback through the national forest.
The remnants of Jerome perched on the steep side of a mountain, its precarious location alone making the place a tourist attraction.
Added to that was its violent, yet interesting history as a Wild West town—the murders, the shoot-outs, the gruesome fires that had burned the place down again and again and taken countless lives. Shifting soils, a result of the eighty-eight miles of mine tunnels, had killed thousands of miners and collapsed whole portions of the city.
His grandmother loved Jerome, with its colorful residents and western history, but the place held few good memories for Cain. Too much bad had happened. Too many gruesome deaths. Too many ghosts.
He smiled at that. He’d been around the town since he was a kid, but he’d never seen a spirit. Maybe you had to be a believer.
Whatever the truth, the Grandview was famously known as one of the town’s most haunted places. The Copper Star was another.
