Love Takes All

by J. M. Jeffries

  “So the staff is playing both sides of the fence. Good for them.”

  “I’m kind of surprised,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “They’re gossiping about you and you project a certain image.” Hunter didn’t like the fact that Leon and David were paying for gossip.

  Lydia smiled. “There’s nothing to gossip about me. Every penny the staff can take from those reprehensible, rude, conniving men, good for them. Just as long they tell the truth, I’m fine.”

  “Miss E. would kick them out if she knew.” Hunter frowned. His grandmother hated gossip.

  “No, she wouldn’t. She would let them stay as long as they wanted, just so she could keep an eye on them.”

  “My grandmother knows how to play the game,” he said with a sigh. “Have you had dinner yet?”

  “No.”

  “Let’s head over to the lounge. They have jambalaya on the menu tonight and want your opinion.”

  “Then let’s go. Let me check with Miss E., and see if she can watch Maya for a few hours.”

  A thrill radiated through her. She wanted to have dinner with him. She lifted the phone to her ear to talk to Miss E. as she walked down the hallway. She thought about how her life was changing, becoming more than what she’d ever dreamed of. She wanted Hunter in her life, yet the idea was still nerve-wracking. Making the decision was one thing, implementing it was something else. She’d taken a lot of baby steps, and having dinner with him was a bigger step than before. There was no turning back.

  * * *

  The lounge was dark and empty though a row of patrons were lined up at the bar. Hunter found an empty booth in a dark corner and watched Lydia slide in. He sat across from her. A waitress arrived immediately and Hunter ordered the jambalaya.

  “The chef is going to be delighted,” the waitress said.

  “We’ll let him know how it is.” Lydia took a sip of water and watched the waitress make her way back to the kitchen.

  “Tell me about your childhood,” Hunter said when they settled.

  “It was terribly boring. I didn’t think it was boring at the time, but every second of every hour was planned for me.” Her eyes looked weary. “And my mother was always telling me who I could be friends with, who to avoid, what parties I needed to go to and what boys were off-limits.”

  “You’re right, your childhood sounded boring.”

  “What about you?”

  “My childhood was awesome. With the exception of the death of my parents, it was great.” He searched back for his memories. “We lived in Henderson on a dirt road. At the end of the road there was this really sharp incline up to the connecting street. My brothers and sister and I used to climb up the incline with our bikes and then ride it down despite all the deep rain gullies and pock-marked areas.” He closed his eyes, reliving the thrill of those wild rides.

  “You were allowed to play outside?” Her eyes took on a round, open expression.

  He grinned. “If I hadn’t met your parents, I’d think you were joking.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Outside was dirty and hot and humid. My mother’s favorite saying was that ladies learned to serve tea, arrange flowers and dress appropriately. Ladies do not perspire. I have a huge long list of what ladies don’t do. But since we need to eventually go to bed, we’ll just avoid that. There are more things on my mother’s list of what ladies don’t do than what they can do.”

  “I’m going to make it all up to you.”

  Her eyebrows rose. And her heart rate kicked up. What could that possibly mean? The very thought excited her. “What did you have in mind?”

  “We’re going to head to the hot springs later and dig in the dirt.”

  “Really!” She couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

  “I spent a lot of time making mud and building buildings. In Las Vegas sand, that wasn’t always easy.”

  The waitress brought their jambalaya and delicately hovered without seeming to hover. And after the first forkful, Lydia smiled. “This is delicious. My compliments to Chef Mauro.”

  The waitress dimpled and left to pass on Lydia’s message.

  “Not bad,” Hunter said.

  Suddenly a huge commotion broke out from the door to the casino.

  Hunter frowned. A few patrons went to the entrance to peer inside. Someone was shouting at the top of their lungs and a slot machine made a large number of loud dings.

  Lydia peered over her shoulder. “I wonder what happened.”

  Filtering through to them were shouts of “I won! I won!”

  “Let’s go see.” Hunter slid out of the booth and Lydia followed him.

  “I won,” came an excited man’s voice.

  Hunter shoved his way through the crowd surrounding a slot machine. It was one of the progressive machines linked to all the other progressive machines at all the other casinos. The pit boss arrived to turn off the bells and whistles.

  “I won.” David’s hand shot up into the air. “Thirty-eight thousand dollars.”

  Leon joined his brother and the two stared at the slot machine. David took out his phone and snapped a photo of the slot machine.

  “Congratulations,” Lydia said.

  Hunter shrugged. He supposed it was only a matter of time before one of them won something, considering how long and how much they played.

  “Come right this way,” Lydia said, indicating the pit boss, who opened a hole in the wall of spectators. “And not only can you collect your winnings, but we’ll take care of your IRS obligation, too.”

  David’s eyes narrowed. “You mean I have to pay the taxes before I can collect?”

  “There’s no free money in Reno,” Hunter said, stepping in smoothly, “and you do want to keep this all legal, don’t you?”

  A mutinous looked showed in David’s eyes. “Of course,” he mumbled, “on the up and up.” He exchanged looks with his brother and stamped off after the pit boss.

  “That was almost petty, Lydia,” Hunter said as they made their way back to the lounge to finish their dinner.

  “Yes, it was. And it’s on my mother’s ‘not to do’ list.” She slid into the booth and picked up her fork. “But it kinda felt good.”

  Hunter burst out laughing. “And you should be so ashamed.”

  She grinned back, almost breathless at his overwhelming joy. “I will be...later.”

  Chapter 8

  Lydia was exhausted. Maya had awakened her at the crack of dawn asking for a proper rodeo outfit. After a morning with her tutor, then a riding lesson, Lydia had taken her daughter shopping for that perfect outfit to wear to a rodeo. Lydia had to concede her daughter looked darling.

  Maya pranced in front of her mom. “Do I look okay?” She wore purple jeans, purple cowboy boots, a bedazzled white shirt and a purple child-sized Stetson. Purple was Maya’s new favorite color.

  “You look perfect.” Lydia adjusted the collar on her shirt. She’d popped for new black-and-white boots for herself and had to admit, they did look perfect with her designer jeans and plain white cotton shirt. Maya had tried to talk her into a pink Stetson, but Lydia declined. Boots were enough for her.

  A knock sounded at the door and Maya ran to open it. Hunter stepped into the foyer. He wore jeans, hiking boots, a white shirt and a baseball cap.

  Maya gave him a critical look and frowned. “You don’t look much like a cowboy.”

  He grinned at her. “This is as cowboy as I’m going to get. And you’re very...purple.”

  Maya preened. “I love purple.”

  “And purple seems to love you.”

  Maya giggled.

  Lydia hid her smile, liking the way that Hunter treated her daughter as a real person.

  They rode the elevator down to t
he lobby. Two security guards dressed in casual jeans and shirts fell into step behind them. Lydia hated that Maya couldn’t go anywhere without security. For a moment, her anger at Leon and David rose all over again.

  “That’s you’re cranky face,” Hunter said.

  “I’m still upset that we can’t go anywhere without some sort of security. Maya should be able to just be a kid.”

  “It’s only temporary.” He reached out and touched her shoulder.

  Heat swirled around her skin, not enough to dissipate her anger, but enough to make her more aware of his seductive presence. “I don’t care. It’s just so wrong.”

  A valet parked Hunter’s car at the curb. A black SUV fell in behind them. Maya opened the back door and bounced inside. By the time Lydia had settled into the passenger seat, Maya was asking how far the fairgrounds were.

  “Ten minutes, short stuff,” Hunter said. “Lydia, did you buy the house?”

  “I made the offer this morning. I’m hoping the owner will accept it. I’m paying cash for the house, so escrow should be quick.” The Realtor, Margaret, had been surprised at Lydia’s cash offer, but she needed things to move quickly to get Maya settled.

  A long line of cars waited to get into the fairgrounds. Hunter found a parking spot. The walk to the stands was a bit long, but Maya twisted and turned to look at everything.

  The fairgrounds were alive with carnival rides at one side of the arena, a food court in the center behind the general seating stands. Long rows of barns were situated behind the reserved seating areas.

  “It sort of smells here,” Lydia said when they found their seats at the center of the arena. The two security guards placed themselves directly behind them.

  “That’s what happens when you involve horses and cattle.” Hunter sat down on the bench, holding the schedule in his hand.

  Maya stood at the railing, hanging over the top rail, bouncing up and down in excitement.

  Hunter looked over the schedule of events. “This evening’s events are calf-roping, barrel racing and steer riding by the junior and senior rodeo entrants.”

  Lydia looked around. The stands were slowly filling up. Rodeo was big business in Reno. Lydia marveled at the number of people who packed the stands, anticipatory looks on their faces. This was her community now and she was going to have to be a part of it for Maya’s sake. And there was a part of her that wondered if the hotel could capitalize on this.

  A line of horse and rides began to form. Lydia leaned forward to watch. Obviously the rodeo was starting with a little parade.

  “Mom, there’s Patti.” Maya waved frantically and after a moment, Patti waved back.

  Patti sat at the front of the long line of horses, the Nevada flag attached to her saddle somehow. Lydia couldn’t quite figure out how. A boy a little younger than Patti angled his big horse next to hers. He held an American flag attached to his saddle.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” came a voice from a raised podium. “Please stand for the national anthem.” A young woman stood at the microphone and somewhere music began to play. The woman opened her mouth and began to sing. As she sang, the young riders paraded around the arena.

  When Patti and her horse came even with their seats, Maya yelled and waved. Patti grinned, but looked straight ahead.

  At the end of the national anthem, everyone was allowed to sit down. The first event, breakaway calf roping, was announced—first the girls, then the boys by age.

  Lydia didn’t think she’d be interested in this, but she was. Caught by the excitement of the crowd, she found herself cheering the young ropers on, amazed at their skills. After the breakaway calf roping was goat tying. Lydia didn’t quite understand the purpose of it, but she cheered just the same. Then riders raced around poles. Finally the barrel racing. When Patti was announced, Maya went wild. She cheered, jumped up and down and clapped.

  “She’s having a good time.” Hunter commented.

  “Amazingly enough, I am too.” Lydia watched at Patti raced around the barrels. She finished her course and after a few seconds her time was displayed on a board.

  “This is so much fun,” Maya said. “I want to be in a rodeo, Mom.”

  “Me, too,” Lydia replied.

  “I don’t think I’d mind being in one myself,” Hunter added.

  Maya and Lydia started laughing and Hunter just grinned.

  * * *

  The rodeo eventually came to an end. Lydia, Maya and Hunter made their way to the gate only to be stopped by Patti.

  “Hey,” Patti said, “I thought you’d like to meet my dad.”

  “I’d like to meet him,” Maya said with a glance at her mother, a query in her eyes.

  “Of course, I want to meet him, too,” Lydia said.

  “Come on.” Patti grabbed Maya’s hand.

  Hunter, Lydia and Maya followed Patti behind the stands to the barns. A short, muscular man stood leaning against the open door of a stall patting the horse’s head that poked out.

  “Dad,” Patti called. “These are our new neighbors.”

  “Hi, I’m Hector Ibarra, Patti’s dad.”

  “I’m Lydia Montgomery. This is my daughter, Maya, and my friend Hunter Russell.” Lydia held out her hand. “I have a lot of questions to ask.”

  “I want to be in the rodeo,” Maya said. “I want to do what Patti does. Can you teach me?”

  Hector Ibarra grinned at Maya. “I can teach you.” He raised his eyebrows, his eyes questioning. “Ms. Montgomery...”

  “Lydia...” she said.

  “Lydia, I’ve been teaching barrel racing, calf roping and pole bending for over twenty years. Anything that goes at a rodeo, I can teach.”

  “I need a horse,” Maya said.

  Hector laughed. “I can help you with that, too.”

  Maya looked so happy Lydia wanted to cry. Shame on David and Leon for trying to force Maya to be what she didn’t want to be. Maya could be a lady and rodeo queen if she wanted. Hell, Lydia wanted to be the rodeo queen too. Not a bad thing.

  The drive home was quiet. Maya had fallen asleep.

  “I like it here,” Lydia said to Hunter.

  “Me, too.”

  “Are you thinking about staying?”

  “I’m thinking about thinking about it,” he replied with a sideways glance at her.

  “Reno is growing. I’m sure this town could use a good architect.” She couldn’t hide the hope in her voice. Hunter had become a fixture in her life.

  Mitchell would have never let her and Maya go to a rodeo. Hunter had happily fallen in with their plans and sort of dressed the part. In fact, Hunter let her be herself. He didn’t tell what to wear, what charities to be involved in, which business wives to court. He was perfectly comfortable with letting her explore what she wanted.

  She studied him. His face was illuminated in the lights from the dashboard. He was man who was comfortable with himself. Any woman would be lucky to have him. Why not someone like her? Lydia turned that thought over in her mind.

  She’d come to Reno to stand on her own two feet, to learn to be independent. She wasn’t completely functional yet, but would be. Hunter encouraged her. He didn’t tell her no over anything. Mitchell always had a long list of things she couldn’t be involved in just like her parents. If any activity didn’t further his career or social standing, she wasn’t allowed to do it. Mitchell used to have a running commentary about everyone and everything. Who was wealthier than him? Whose kids were in trouble? Whose businesses were in trouble? Which spouse was unfaithful? He knew more about the seamy underside of New Orleans society than anyone Lydia had ever known.

  Mitchell would never have allowed Lydia to strike up a friendship with Hector Ibarra and his daughter. He would have been scandalized because Hector did not come with the proper soci
al pedigree, unless he saw a reason to be friends with the Ibarra family. Hector seemed like a nice person and Patti definitely was. Lydia was determined to know them better. Her life had been limited and she needed to expand her horizons. She wanted her daughter to be open to the possibility of things. Lydia refused to limit her daughter’s friendships or her future.

  * * *

  The next day Lydia mother found her in her office. “We need some mother/daughter time.” Caroline looked elegant is a peach floral sundress that contrasted with her cocoa colored skin.

  “Okay,” Lydia responded, uncertain what her mother had in mind. Lydia had plans to check out a spa at another hotel. She wanted to check out the competition. “I plan to check out a spa today.”

  “Oh, good, I’ll come along.” Caroline clapped her hands.

  Lydia viewed her mother with suspicion. “That would be lovely.”

  “And we can do lunch afterward.”

  “Sounds fine,” Lydia replied. She called the hotel and booked a massage for two along with a mani-pedi. As she drove to the hotel, her mother chattered, keeping everything light and friendly while saying absolutely nothing. Lydia found herself waiting, wondering if her mother’s artless conversation would lead to something.

  The Tambien hotel was small in contrast to the larger hotels. But the spa was elegance incarnate. Spanish tile floors with white wicker furniture and green palm plants in huge pink urns greeted them as they walked in. The receptionist signed them in and escorted them to their massage.

  The massage suite was large, painted a soothing beige, yet dimly lit. Soft, soothing music sounded. Candles decorated a long counter, their scent heavy in the air. The room contained two massage tables.

  And all the while Caroline continued to talk.

  “You remember Collier Grant,” Caroline said as they lay on the massage tables. “Everyone just found out that he’s being sued by his former mistress for breach of contract. I just can’t understand Collier getting involved with a cocktail waitress. She is working her way through law school, but he promised to pay for her school and then signed a cocktail napkin stating his intention.”