She’d tried to catch her breath after he left, feeling completely off balance. The café had been busy the rest of the early afternoon before she’d closed. Apparently, everyone had heard this might be her last day. Clearly most of them weren’t happy with her even before she closed early.
“At first we were afraid it wouldn’t sell, and you’d close it,” Penny Birch had told her.
“Goldie’s café is an institution,” Emily Danvers had added.
“Even with a restaurant in the hotel remodel, it isn’t the same kind of food or hours—or prices,” Carla Wilson had pointed out.
“People are talking about boycotting the place once the new owner takes over,” Penny had said. “There is talk that he plans to change everything, including the menus and the prices.”
“If you’re that worried about the café closing, I would think you’d want him to succeed,” Goldie had argued.
The three women had merely shaken their heads as they’d paid and started to leave. “This will be the last time we set foot in here,” Penny had said, clearly the leader of this bunch. Emily and Carla had looked sad about that, but Penny had merely looked defiant.
Goldie had watched them go, telling herself the boycott wouldn’t last long and everything would be fine, but she was having trouble believing it. Just as she was having trouble living with the decisions she’d made.
MAX HADN’T SLEPTwell again last night. But to his surprise it wasn’t from nightmares of his past. It was his present. In the dream, he kept trying to get to Goldie because she was in danger. But the harder he tried to run, the faster the little red sports car went, her blond hair blowing back as Donovan sped off. His last glimpse of her face was as she reached back over the front car seat as if hoping to catch his hand. Even awake, he could still see her long blond hair loose and blowing back over her shoulder as she reached for him. There’d been a pleading look on her face, as if begging him to save her.
“Doesn’t take much to figure out that dream,” his brother said that afternoon over a cup of coffee at the hotel. “She’s been pleading with you to save her for some time.”
The sheriff shook his head. “You’re missing the point. It’s Donovan. He’s putting her in danger.”
Cordell raised a brow. “From what I’ve seen and heard, he’s giving her everything she apparently needs. The only danger, as I see it, is you losing her. Your subconscious is telling you to get off your high horse and tell the woman how you feel about her before it’s too late and she rides off into the sunset with someone else. You sure she wasn’t waving goodbye instead of reaching for you?”
Max put down his coffee cup a little too hard as he got to his feet. “You didn’t see her face in the dream like I did. Goldie’s always been sensible, but now she’s doing things she normally wouldn’t do, like selling the café and hanging out with this stranger who’s suddenly rolled into town. She’s moving way too fast with this Donovan character. It’s as if she’s lost all common sense. She’s in trouble. Something has to be done to stop her before it’s too late.”
“What is it you think has to be done?” Cordell asked him.
He mugged a face at him. “Don’t start, okay? I’m telling you Goldie has no idea who this man is or the people he’s connected to.”
Max told Cordell about Donovan’s connection to Malcolm Mandeville, the crime boss of a large criminal family living outside Laramie, Wyoming.
“Wait. Just because the man dated Malcolm’s daughter, that doesn’t mean he was involved in anything criminal,” his brother said, clearly not getting it.
“As if that wasn’t enough, after Donovan Cole shows up in town, the café sells quickly, and for so much money. How could I help not becoming suspicious?” Max demanded.
Cordell took a sip of his coffee and shook his head. “Sorry, but this sounds like a leap—even for you. Are you sure you aren’t letting your feelings for Goldie get in the way here?”
“I ran a background check on the man who offered far more than all the others to buy the café, according to her Realtor,” Max said. “Guess where Arnold ‘Arnie’ Adams learned to cook?Prison. He has a criminal record for a variety of crimes, most nonviolent, fortunately. How would a man like that be able to come up with so much money to buy the café? And why Dry Gulch?”
“It couldn’t possibly be because your brother started something in this town,” Cordell said. His hotel and resort were already bringing in interest from across the Northwest. His mineral hot water pools he had planned had reservations for summer pouring in.
“Yes,” Max said, feeling chagrined. “I’m not discounting what you’ve done for Dry Gulch. I’m sure Goldie wouldn’t have gotten so much money for the café if it wasn’t for the resort you’re building here.”
“Then why can’t it be that simple?” his brother said.
“It could have been—before I discovered yet another connection. Until this week, Arnie was employed by Malcolm Mandeville out at his ranch in Laramie.”
Cordell had started to take another sip of his coffee but stopped to stare at him. “Okay, I’m listening.”
Max raked a hand through his blond hair—much like his brother’s, only shorter—and sat down again. “It’s too much of a coincidence that Arnie and Donovan both have ties to Malcolm Mandeville—even tenuous ones. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s going on and Goldie is right in the middle of it.”
“Like what though?” his brother asked, frowning.
“That’s just it, I don’t know,” he said and leaned over to put his head in his hands. “But someone needs to warn Goldie.” Max slowly raised his head to eye his brother.
“Don’t look atme,” Cordell said and took a drink of his beer. “I know why you don’t want to do it. She isn’t going to take it well, especially from you. She’s going to think you’re just jealous, which come on, you know you are.” Before Max could deny it, he rushed on. “But I think you’re right, no matter how it goes, she needs to be warned. Do I have to remind you that she’s signing the papers for the café tonight at the hotel?”
Chapter Nine
