The television set up over the far side of the dining space was set to the news. The anchorwoman’s voice cut through the silence that Melody and Jesse fell into.
“Not only is Flint Industries taking over Lexico Computers, but the CEO and owner, Stryder Flint, promises more jobs to the small town as he brings in his research and development team. On a more disappointing note to the young women out there, rumors have become more solidified around the Candy Cross and Stryder Flint union. Friends of the couple have reported the mention of dates and a guest list.”
Melody turned to stare at the screen. “Are you kidding me?” She was waiting for a man who was moving on. When was she going to see that?
The diner phone rang and she reached for the earpiece. She didn’t need Tom coming out to yell at her to answer the phone. “Dotty’s Diner. This is Melody Steel.” Why did she keep answering with her last name? Jesse shot her an amused glance. There’d be teasing when Melody hung up for sure.
“Melody Steel? This is Frank with Thompson and Thompson Mortgage. I’ve left you multiple messages on your home phone. You’re a hundred-and-eighty days past due. You have thirty days to get caught back up on your payments or you’ll be in foreclosure. If you happen to have a sell pending, we need to be made aware of that.” His voice had the clipped tones of a man who wasn’t taking anymore from a customer who obviously didn’t have the means to pay.
Melody didn’t wait to hear more. She lowered the phone piece back to its base and stared at the phone while the anchorwoman continued speaking. “…Stryder has made his own fortune and he’s been heard saying more than once that he just wants to give back. Well, Stryder Flint, you’re one amazing man.”
Melody blinked back tears. If he’d been so amazing, why had he left? One more person who couldn’t survive loving her. He’d left on a cloud of promises and Melody had held out hope all this time.
Regret was cold and so was loneliness. Melody didn’t have time for either.
She had a home to save and no life vest to hold onto. She turned back to ring up the tickets in her apron pocket. How much would her thirty dollars in tips help out at the ranch?
Maybe she could sell her secrets about Stryder to the anchorwoman interested in his love life. Melody knew more about the ex-cowboy than anyone. He’d been her first love and she his.
That had to be worth something.
Dang, her life would have been so different, if she’d never met Stryder Flint.
Chapter 2
Stryder
California billions beckoned but they had nothing on the sunsets of Montana or the smile of Melody Steel. Stryder Flint rolled his head on his shoulders, stretching after a long day at the office. He leaned back in his leather recliner and used his toe to turn him to face his ocean view window on the coast of California.
The cliffs of the shoreline reminded him of the jagged mountains surrounding his hometown. He missed the feel of the Montana air – it even had a cleaner scent than the ocean air did. Sure, the smell of the salty air was refreshing in its way and something Stryder had grown to love, but when you’d been on the back of a horse with the sun beating down on your back and the scent of wheat fields and fresh streams filling you, it was hard to beat with any other sensation on the earth.
Slightly ajar, the window let in the sounds of waves crashing beneath his home onto the rocks below.
He swirled the amber liquid in his crystal glass. He wasn’t sure of the name of his whiskey, only that his butler kept him well-stocked in the smooth alcohol. When he was feeling particularly melancholy, he reached for his secret stash of Wild Turkey – the same as Clint Steel.
Stryder’s cell phone rang, sitting beside his laptop and a dossier on his newest business acquisition. He might be home from a long day at work, but that didn’t mean work had ended. He loved working and he loved that it distracted him from overthinking the events of the last decade.
Moonlight would soon replace the setting sun over the water and Stryder’s favorite time of day would be reflected in the waves. If he stood there long enough with the stars mirrored on the inky surface, he could almost pretend he was standing in a field in Montana with the biggest widest skies spread out around him.
Everyone said the ocean was the grandest thing you’d ever see, make you feel just how small you were. But Stryder knew that was a lie. He’d lived under the Montana skies and his soul ached to feel that complete again, to see the heavens spread out before him with no end in sight.
The call went to voicemail and he blinked. Shoot, he might have gone after the whiskey a little too fast when he’d gotten home. It’d been a hard day and he really just wanted to numb it all away.
His ringer peeled through the silence again and he leaned forward, sobering enough to focus on the call. He swiped the screen. “Stryder.” He kept his tone light but professional, more habit than affectation.
“Mr. Flint, it’s Marcie from Seek Realty. You’re a lucky man. A nice chunk of land bordering your current piece of property in Clearwater County just went on notice. The piece will be up for auction in a month.” The realtor’s perky tone made it easy to make sense of what she was saying.
Stryder angled his head to the side, blinking hard as if everything was fuzzy but truth be told, nothing had been clearer. “Notice?” The only piece of property bordering his family land in Clearwater was the old Steel place. Last he’d checked, it was still owned by the family. “Notice? But that’s not a guarantee the piece will go up. I asked specifically for when they were available or a guarantee.” His hard tone suggested the time was a waste.
Marcie’s tone dimmed enough to add her own level of professional ice. “Yes, sir, I know that. This particular piece is… shall we say, more of a guarantee than anything else. The homeowner has been given plenty of time. The bank has already given foreclosure notice – this isn’t just a standard warning. It’s in foreclosure, unless the back owed amount gets into the bank in the next thirty days. If the piece is sold, then the foreclosure can be avoided. The sum owed to the bank isn’t a small one and compounded with all the fees, this owner doesn’t stand a chance.”
“How do you know this?” Stryder had hired Seek Realty because they were discrete and got things done. He paid them handsomely to find the types of properties he could work with, that he could make money from. They worked within his parameters and he usually didn’t care how they got their information, just so long as they got it.
This time was different. This time the information was directly about her and anything and everything made a difference.
“Well, between you and me, my cousin works at the bank, Wendel. He lets me know on any pieces in the area that you might be interested in.” A smug pride filled her voice.
“Wendel is your cousin? That’s good to know.” Wendel Singhe was married to Two Rides’s busybody wife and between the two of them, there were no small-town secrets. Weasel Wendel had a nickname for a reason.
His information always had panned out, though.
“Let me know if you want it and I’ll move in.” A couple clicks in the background. “Check your email for MLS number. You can see the property but it’s not on the market as of yet. I’m sure we can pull some strings and get things done without that happening. Thanks, Mr. Flint.” Marcie hung up. She knew Stryder didn’t like small talk and didn’t like wasting time. They’d been working together long enough, she knew when the conversation was over.
Stryder dropped his phone to the table and turned his attention to his laptop. He pulled it onto the tops of his thighs and clicked on his email icon. The email was already there. He opened it, grimacing and sipping his whiskey again, welcoming the fire as he swallowed.
Clicking the link Marcie had sent, Stryder refused to believe the Steel place was up for sale. Wendel or Marcie had to be wrong. Nothing else made sense. Maybe the property was on the other side, which again, didn’t make sense. That was national forest land and not usually up for sale. The property had been in
the Steel family for generations. They would do anything to keep it.
The page loaded and he blinked, his lips falling open in shock.
Marcie had sent him the unlisted MLS, but it was still the property he knew like his own.
He slowly put his drink down. His pain at breaking his promise, so many promises, ate at him and the alcohol was one he could at least push to the side for the moment.
No. Not the old Steel place. Not when Stryder was just starting to get his act together, or, well, thinking about it. How could he go back to his land if Melody wasn’t living on hers? He couldn’t go back when he was close to labeling himself a drunk. No, he wasn’t an alcoholic, not yet. He had to go back to Two Rides, but not until he was ready. And when he went back, he had to find Melody there.
If she wasn’t there, then what was the point?
Why would the Steel family sell? Clint had never cashed the checks Stryder had sent so Stryder had always assumed he had money and his pride had kept him from depositing the money. The only thing that would make Clint sell was that they had no money. What had gotten so bad that Clint was losing the property?
Stryder pulled up the search engine on his computer and looked for the Two Rides Chronicle. He read it every once in a while to see if Melody would end up in the paper – like in the wedding announcements section.
He had a case of whiskey waiting for that day. He wasn’t stupid. A woman like Melody Steel would be claimed the first chance she let a man stake her as his own. Stryder had tried to be that man, but she was no longer interested.
Stryder clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to think about Melody moving on. The pain was still raw, would probably always be raw.
An obituary with Clint Steel’s name at the top caught Stryder’s eye and he stilled to read it.
Clint Steel passed away this last Monday. He was survived by his daughter, Melody, who continues to live at the family ranch.
That was it. The obituary was sparse with no mention of what had happened. No mention of Melody’s mom who never came home. Stryder ready the short lines over and over, searching for some clue or hint of what the words weren’t saying which was everything. Had Clint ever stopped drinking? Had Melody found out about anything between Clint and Stryder?
Clint Steel. Dead. Stryder couldn’t believe it. Was that relief or just regret? He hadn’t heard back from Clint in years, but Stryder had always held out hope Melody’s dad was working behind the scenes to convince Melody that Stryder was the man for her. But hope faded and the things Clint had passed along had almost broken Stryder.
Almost. Alcohol had numbed the pain for him but just barely. He had to still function, to work on his empire so he could one day try to get Melody back.
That day had come.
He had to prove to himself he didn’t need to drink. Stryder had seen the alcohol in Clint’s cupboards. In fact, Stryder had stolen his first drink from the Steel stockpile where he’d developed his taste for whiskey. Then Clint had offered him a glass to seal the deal.
Melody had never known. Now that she had lost her father, she was about to lose her family’s place, too. Why? What had happened? The newspaper didn’t say much but taking that information and combining it with the information that Marcy had shared and Stryder could put two and two together.
She was in trouble. No matter what else had happened between them, no matter how much he’d let her down, Stryder couldn’t ignore Two Rides any longer.
Melody was in trouble and it was time for Stryder to go home.
Chapter 3
Melody
Melody had been painting her fake smile on her lips for such long periods of time over the last week or so, her cheeks hurt. She’d taken another extra shift and her feet screamed for a break, but she needed the money to make as many payments as she could. As long as she didn’t think about the full amount due, she could chip away at it. She had to.
She shivered, unable to get fully warm the last few days. The power had been shut off at her house which meant cold showers and no fridge. Rolling the silverware beside the coffee maker was as close as she could get to a mini heater. Melody sighed, blinking hard to ward off her fatigue as she glanced out over the restaurant and the customers.
Her thoughts were jumbled. She’d shut off the unnecessary phone line. Her mom wasn’t coming back. No matter how long her dad had hoped. Melody had to accept that about Stryder as well.
To make ends meet, Melody had to sell things off and she wasn’t sure where to list items or even what would sell fastest.
Considering the customers in their seats, Melody pressed her lips together. If anyone was looking for farm equipment, those men would be the ones in the know. Gripping the black handle of the coffee pot, Melody pasted yet another fake smile on her lips and left the protection of the server staging area.
Approaching the packed booth of regulars, Melody licked her lips. The men knew her daddy was dead, but they hadn’t really acknowledged anything else about the situation over the last few days. A few of them had dropped extra change for her tip, but that was about it. Rough farmers and ranchers, they probably didn’t want to face Clint’s mortality in order to avoid their own.
Sidling up to the open corner of the table, Melody cocked an eyebrow and smiled even broader. “How’s the hashbrowns, guys? Anyone need a refill?” She held the pot aloft as if they didn’t know what she was talking about. Those men would go through three or four decanters all by themselves on any given morning.
The group was ultimately morning people. They were up before the sun to work started on their farms and their ranches every day but Sunday. They stopped by the diner for coffee and a bite and to get a pulse on what was going on. If ever there were a water cooler space for a farmer, it was at his local diner with a cup of joe.
The chime from the door opening announced another arrival. Melody glanced over her shoulder long enough to see Jesse seat a man with his back to Melody in a black suit in a side booth. Melody turned back to the group.
“Melody, we were just talkin’ about you.” Ole Man Timmery tugged on the collar of his grass-stained coveralls and pointed at Jansen Stidwell. “Why won’t you marry Brock already?” Brock was Jansen’s son and everyone in town knew Brock planned on Melody being his bride. The Stidwells were the town bullies and most everyone gave them whatever they wanted.
Except Melody. She wouldn’t marry Brock.
The muscles around her mouth tightened in irritation. Leaning over, Melody topped off the mugs in reach. A couple of the men covered the mouths of their cups as a sign they didn’t want more. “How can I marry Brock when I’m in love with you, Randy?”
Brock wasn’t the topic she wanted to pursue when she was so tired she might very well say something she shouldn’t. Melody changed the subject. “Gentlemen, my daddy had the best farm equipment around. Would anyone be in the market?” She had more things, but she’d start with that. There was no sentimental value to the tractor or other items shacked up in the barn.
Mr. Stidwell leaned over, tapping the tabletop with the tip of his finger. He was the only one who wouldn’t be out working the fields that day and his white button-up shirt testified to his expectations for his daily work. “I’m interested in buying Clint’s ’66 split window Corvette. I’ll pay you top dollar for that piece and to sweeten the deal, I’ll get Brock to leave you alone.” He winked. If anyone could make Brock leave her alone, it was his father.
The group laughed, waiting for Melody’s reply. Stidwell had been bugging Clint for that car since before Melody could remember. Clint had never hinted that it was a possibility. He’d had too much fondness for the Corvette that his dad had bought brand new. Selling it to Stidwell seemed like a cop out.
Melody paused, she couldn’t imagine selling the car. That was her daddy’s most valued prized possession. He’d loved that car almost as much as he’d loved Melody – maybe more.
The men waited for an answer. Melody brightened her smile. “Tell you what
, Mr. Stidwell, I’ll think about your offer. The price won’t be low, if I go that route. And getting Brock to back off will only be the start.” She smirked as if she were teasing, but deep down, she knew, if she were going to sell the Corvette, it wouldn’t be for a small pittance. Her daddy’s toy. She couldn’t sell that old car, but she might have to consider it. Something big was going to have to go – the house was the top of the list.
“Let me know if you need anything, guys.” She turned, pulling the pad of paper from her pocket to make sure she’d written down Stidwell’s extra bacon that morning to charge him. She was tired and if she didn’t double-check things, she forgot easily. She padded carefully down the aisle, retucking her ticket pad into her large apron pocket and sighing.
“Excuse me, I might be on the market for some farm equipment.” That voice. She’d know that voice anywhere. It had been years since she’d heard him speak just to her and her reaction was just as palpable. Of their own volition, her toes curled in her white tennis shoes and her shoulders tensed.
Melody broke stride, jerking to a stop. She took a deep breath and turned slowly to face the table Jesse had sat the newcomer at. The newcomer wasn’t some random stranger passing through.
Stryder had come home.
His voice matched the man he’d become.
Smooth, velvety, and something bold. His high cheekbones and hooded eyes only enhanced the masculine bend in his jaw and the thick brown hair unadorned with a hat. Every man wore a cowboy hat around Two Rides. The absence didn’t make him seem weaker or less than. In fact, Melody could easily imagine reaching out and running her fingers through the soft, shiny strands.
She wanted to touch him, throw herself in his lap and beg him to tell her why he hadn’t come back for her. The smoldering heat in his eyes promised something she didn’t trust anymore.
Stryder: The Second Chance Billionaire (The Billionaire Cowboys of Clearwater County Book 1) Page 2
