It Had to Be Him

by Tamra Baumann

  By the stunned looks of confusion on her older siblings’ faces, no one else knew about the house either. Dad’s menacing stare silenced the questions they clearly wanted to ask.

  She’d always presumed the house had been inherited by her mother, an only child. But because her mom had died when Megan was a baby, it had gone to her father. “I’d gladly share with you guys—”

  “Nope.” Ryan finally spoke. “If those were their wishes, then we need to honor them. None of us are going to complain, are we?” He slid a stern look Casey’s way and then to Ben. When they both shook their heads, Ryan nodded sharply. “Then we’re all in agreement. Go for it, Meg.”

  “Oh, that’s rich. How?” Her father leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his big barrel chest.

  When no one spoke, Dad said, “Megan obviously doesn’t have the resources, and I expect you all to keep our bargain. Don’t let me catch you loaning her money. She’ll never learn if we keep bailing her out. We all agreed on that.”

  Yeah, and at the end of the day, that’s what hurt the worst. None of them had any faith left in her. Well, dammit, she’d show all of them, and herself too, that she could run her new little lodge better than any of them, even if she didn’t have any money.

  But how?

  Meg fumed as she replayed the family meeting in her mind. She was used to her dad stomping on her heart, but hadn’t seen that one coming from her sister and brothers.

  She dragged the compressor closer to Grandma’s fence, intending to finish the paint job while she decided what she was going to do with her life. It was tempting to just pack up and go, but if she left the fence half-painted, they’d all accuse her of reneging on top of being a screwup.

  Too bad she had nowhere else to go. Given a choice it sure wouldn’t be Anderson freakin’ Butte.

  As she leaned down to flip the switch, a familiar voice rang out in greeting.

  Meg smiled as Pam, her hairstylist best friend who dressed like a hooker, made her way down the drive. Maybe Meg should point the nozzle at Pam and paint some clothes on her. But then, if Meg had a body like that, she’d probably want to show it off too. “Hey, Pam.”

  Her friend sashayed closer. Pam put so much bump and grind into her walk she should’ve carried her own pole. And she looked the part for the job: bleached-blonde hair, curvy body, and a man-eating smile. “Hey, Megs, glad you’re back. Heard you were going to open a lodge on the other side of the lake.”

  It hadn’t been five minutes since she’d left her father’s office. The Internet had nothing on the grapevine in Anderson Butte. “Well, uh, I haven’t really decided—”

  “Because I have a business proposition for you.” Pam batted her eyes.

  Someone should tell her that only works on men. Meg loved Pam like a sister but she had bigger problems at the moment. “I’m not really sure what I’ll do with the place yet. But I’ll keep that stellar idea of yours in mind. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to paint this fence.”

  Pam blinked. “I haven’t even told you what it is. Come on, Meg. We’ve known each other since the first grade.”

  True. She was mad at her family, not Pam. “Sorry. Bad day. What did you have in mind?”

  A sly grin lit Pam’s face. “I offered this deal to your father, but we all know how shortsighted he is, right? This could be a way to stick it to him, you know? See, I’ve been taking an online massage class, and I—” Pam suddenly stopped and her eyes got all gooey. “Oh, hey, Ryan.”

  As mad at her family as Meg was, she could have kissed Ryan for saving her from Pam’s off-kilter idea. Pam giving massages in hotel rooms would surely get someone arrested.

  “Pam.” Ryan lifted his chin in greeting. “Need to talk to Meg. Excuse us?”

  “Sure. Stop by later if you’d like to help me with my massage homework. A body full of muscles like yours is hard to come by in these parts.” How Pam raised her chest and made her boobs suddenly swell larger was a mystery Meg didn’t want to solve. “We’ll talk later, Meg. Bye.”

  “See you.”

  Meg and Ryan stood in silence until Pam’s swaying hips were at the top of the hill. Meg turned and eyed her brother. “You and Pam?”

  “Nope.”

  Ryan, the man of many words.

  “Good. Now, thanks for saving me, but the only thing I have to say to you is—you all suck!”

  “Prove us wrong then.” He reached into his khaki uniform pants pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “For your new house. Utilities will be on in the morning.”

  Ryan pressed the keys to their grandparents’ house into her hand, then turned to walk back to his place. That he had been the first to say he had no problem with not getting his fair share of the house poked at her heart. “Thanks, Ry.”

  He didn’t bother to turn around, just lifted a hand to say goodbye.

  Meg stuffed the keys into her back pocket, flipped the switch on the compressor, and went back to painting the fence. Zeke was right—the paint shot out so fast she’d have the job finished in no time. Then she’d collect Haley from Zeke and go to the diner. She needed Aunt Gloria’s comfort food. And some awesome pie. Nothing helped a desperate girl think more clearly than Aunt Gloria’s chocolate mousse pie.

  When the compressor suddenly stopped working mid-squirt, Meg turned to see what the problem was.

  Casey stood with the plug dangling from her long, elegant hand. “We need to talk, Meg.”

  She dropped the nozzle onto the grass and turned the opposite way. Casey’s betrayal had stung the worst. “I have nothing to say to you, Benedict Arnold.”

  “Good, then you can just listen.” In a classic Casey move, she tugged on Meg’s ponytail, thwarting her escape. Meg whirled around to give her sister the tongue-lashing she deserved, but before she could start, Casey pulled Meg close, wrapping those mile-long arms around her, trapping her against that tall body. “I’m furious with you for not telling me about Haley’s father, but I realized something today.” Meg tried to pull away, but Casey’s grip only grew tighter. “Apparently you haven’t figured out I quit being your mother a long time ago. I’ve always wished we could just be sisters.”

  Meg stopped struggling. “Really? Because a sister, as opposed to a mother siding with Dad, would have called and warned me about this plan. Not one of you cared enough to make a simple phone call?”

  “You expected Ryan to call and tell you? The man hasn’t strung ten sentences in a row since he was born.”

  “Funny. But that doesn’t let you and Ben off the hook.”

  “It’s not some big conspiracy. The truth is—Dad’s right about this one thing. We do always bail you out. If you’d stop being mad long enough to let your brain kick in, you’ll realize it’s true. Should I give you examples?”

  That was the last thing she needed, to have all her past mistakes thrown in her face. “No! But it’s different now that I have Haley. I’ve changed.” She had her work cut out for her to show them all how much she’d changed, but she’d do it.

  “The jury’s still out on that. But if it’s true, then you need a sister more than a mother right now.” Casey leaned back and tilted Meg’s face up with her soft hands. “A sister is someone you can trust, no matter how big the problem. Sisters can share a glass of wine, bitch about men, and talk about sex.”

  “I can’t talk about sex with . . . you.” Meg shuddered. “That’d be like talking to Grandma about it.”

  “That’s my point, Meg. Get over it!” Casey huffed out a breath. “Anyway, the real reason for this chat is that I got a new computer a few weeks ago and my old one is still sitting in the corner of my office. I haven’t had time to wipe the hard drive. It has all of our client contact information and the latest version of our management software. Dad said we couldn’t help you, but if the computer went missing I wouldn’t report it to Ryan.” Casey pulled her closer. “As your sister, I want nothing more than for you to show Dad what you’re capable of. So don’t screw this up. Ar
e we good here?”

  Megan wrapped her arms around Casey’s waist and snuggled close.

  A hug felt good after the day she’d had.

  But it was still a mom hug. Casey was the closest to a mother she’d ever known. It wouldn’t be easy to stop thinking of her in that way, but it might be nice to start over with Casey. Just be sisters for a change. Maybe she’d be able to start over with her dad too. If she could pull off renovating the lodge and make him proud of her for once.

  “Yeah, we’re good. Thanks for the computer. But could we ease into that whole talking about sex thing? I’m still trying to get over the birds-and-the-bees speech you gave me in the fifth grade.”

  “Me too. I was only seventeen. I made it up as I went.”

  No. Knowing Casey, she’d probably read eight books on the subject to be sure she got it just right. “That might explain how I accidently got pregnant.”

  Casey laughed and gave a quick tug on Meg’s ponytail. “See you later, brat. I have work to do.”

  Her sister had never judged Meg for Haley like their father had. Seems Casey had stopped mothering her; she just hadn’t noticed.

  Meg called out as her sister started up the hill. “Actually, it was equipment failure.”

  Casey turned around but continued walking backward up the hill. “Careful, Meg. That’s dangerously close to having a conversation about sex.”

  Meg smiled as she leaned down and picked up the paint nozzle. Maybe now everyone in this damn town would leave her alone for a half hour so she could paint the fence—and figure out how to raise enough money to fix up her new lodge.

  Drawing in a deep breath of clean, pine-tinted fresh air, Josh Granger walked toward the massive Anderson Butte Hotel, smiling for the first time in years. After being sequestered for three years, breathing fresh air, being able to do whatever he wanted, go wherever he wanted, was fantastic. Just driving his truck on the open road felt like he’d won the lottery. But now he needed to focus.

  Interrogating and mining out the truth from life’s worst excuses for human beings had left him hollow and empty. The FBI’s definition of giving him a break a little over three years ago had been to send him undercover as an employee of a software company the mob ran as a front.

  The only good thing to come of the case was that he’d met Meg. A woman as fragile as she was strong. Her external badass attitude couldn’t hide from him the sweet woman inside she protected so fiercely. The light in Meg’s infectious smile had shown him how far he’d sunk into the darkness and despair of the criminal underworld.

  Thoughts of being with Meg again had gotten him through all the lonely days and nights he’d been hidden away. He couldn’t wait to see her and finally meet Haley. But Meg wasn’t going to feel the same about him.

  He closed his eyes and dug deep, conjuring the man Megan thought he was. His training had taught him to act, steal, and mine out the truth, but getting Megan and Haley back wouldn’t be easy. He needed to let Meg see enough of the Josh she thought she knew, then he’d feed her the real Josh a little at a time. She thought he was a wealthy software designer who didn’t want anything to do with them.

  He couldn’t tell Meg the truth—yet. While the dangerous criminals were all dead or behind bars, there were still some lingering questions about Meg’s father, so the case wasn’t closed. He probably should’ve waited until it was all over before he reappeared in their lives, after they knew her father’s fate. Then there’d be no need to lie. But who knew how long that was still going to take? And after three of the longest years of his life, he couldn’t wait another day to see Meg’s beautiful smile again and to finally meet the daughter he knew nothing about but wanted to know every detail he’d missed. Never having a father, and being orphaned at six, he vowed to be a good parent to Haley.

  But how the hell was he going to convince Meg he wasn’t the old Josh? Worse, what if she didn’t like the man he truly was?

  Hitching up his bag, he headed for a set of double doors that slid open as he approached. The lobby was surprisingly sleek compared to the rustic exterior; gleaming wood floors, massive tables with fresh flowers, and oversized leather couches and chairs were all strategically set around flat-screen televisions and a big stone fireplace. There was even a highly polished old-fashioned bar for happy hour that could have come straight from a saloon in the Wild West.

  A tall, dark-haired woman behind the reception desk lifted her head and sent him a warm smile. “Hi. May I help you?”

  Before he could answer, the elevator doors slid open and a guy who looked familiar exited. Dressed in a T-shirt and board shorts, he lifted a hand to the lady behind the counter and then strolled out the back door toward the lake.

  Josh approached the counter and dropped his bag at his feet. “Was that Ashton Kutcher?” He’d watched too much mindless television to pass the time while he’d been hidden away. It was embarrassing he even knew who that was.

  “I wish. How can I help you?”

  He could have sworn . . . he shook it off and got back to business. “I need a room for a few nights, please.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but we don’t take walk-ins. Reservations only.”

  “Would you be willing to make an exception just this once? I tried, but it’s impossible to find you on the web to make a reservation.”

  “We rely on word of mouth only. The closest hotel is about fifteen miles south. Shall I call and see if they have any rooms available?”

  What? The parking lot wasn’t nearly full, and there weren’t throngs of people milling around. What hotel wouldn’t have an Internet presence? It didn’t make any sense.

  Megan didn’t talk about her family much, but she’d told him they ran the hotel and owned most of the real estate in the town. And something about the woman’s smile seemed familiar. Meg was a petite brunette with stunning blue eyes. This lady’s eyes were brown, and she was tall and slender, but her smile and hair color were just like Meg’s. “Did Megan put you up to this?”

  Her eyebrows spiked. “Who’s Megan?”

  She was good. But he hadn’t been called the human lie detector for nothing. A momentary flash in her eyes revealed she was covering. “I just want to see her and Haley. I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

  At the mention of Haley, the woman’s hand had fisted around the pen she held. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And I’m sorry, but I don’t have a room for you, Mr. . . . ?”

  “Josh Granger. If you see Megan, tell her I just want to talk. And if she runs, I’ll find her again. I’ll be at the diner I saw down the road if she wants to make this easier on everyone.”

  Josh picked up his bag and headed for the sliding glass doors.

  Maybe he’d come on a little too strong. This wasn’t Denver; it was a small town. Debating a less aggressive tactic, he glanced over his shoulder in time to see her furiously tapping out a message on her cell. Good. Spread the word, because Megan’s cell phone indicated she was just north of the hotel. The driveway had a gate and a sign professing to shoot trespassers or he would have gone to the coordinates his tracking software had guided him to first. He’d sleep in his truck at the end of the driveway if he had to so she wouldn’t be able to bolt. Or maybe Megan would make this easy and meet him at the diner.

  Two minutes later he pulled open the glass door of Good Eats and Better Treats. The home-cooked scents filling the air reminded him he’d skipped lunch. The diner was packed but for two empty stools at the counter.

  The décor, contrary to the rustic Daniel Boone theme he’d expected from a mountain town, was straight out of the fifties. It had alternating black-and-white tile on the floors, red vinyl booths and stools, and lots of stainless steel behind the counter that was either original or a damned good restoration job. It even had little jukeboxes at every Formica-topped table.

  The waitress behind the counter was somewhere between fifty and seventy-five. She wore a pink bowling shirt with the name “Gloria” st
itched across her chest. Her hair was all piled up on top of her head like Marge Simpson’s. Gloria had five—no, make that six—pens sticking out of that bird’s nest. But it was the blue eye shadow and the hot-pink lipstick that completed what would be one hell of an impressive Halloween costume.

  She held out a plastic-coated menu. “What can I get you? The chocolate mousse pie’s to die for.”

  That was Megan’s favorite flavor of pie. She used to eat it in bed after they’d work up an appetite. The sexy moans she made while devouring it made up for the crumbs she’d leave on their sheets.

  He slid onto a barstool next to an older man and drew a deep breath.

  Patience. Small town. Reel it back.

  He returned the menu to Gloria without looking at it and remembered to smile. “Why don’t you bring me whatever you like the best and then the pie for dessert? I trust you.”

  Her eyes squinted as she studied him. “Aren’t you the charmer? It’s no wonder Me—”

  The old guy sitting next to him cleared his throat, cutting her off as he stuck his hand out. “Hi. Name’s Zeke. What brings you to Anderson Butte?”

  He shook the man’s hand. “Josh. Nice to meet you. Have you lived here long?”

  “My whole life.”

  “Then you must know the woman I’m looking for. She grew up here. Megan Anderson?”

  The old guy frowned and scratched the stubble on his wrinkled cheek. “Nope. Can’t say I recognize the name. But wait. Half the town is here tonight ’cuz of the fish and chips special.” He stood and placed two fingers in his mouth, blowing out a shrill whistle an NFL referee would be proud of.

  All conversation stopped and everyone turned to stare at them. “So, this here young man says he’s looking for a lady named Megan Anderson. Any you all know her?”

  Nos rang out along with head shakes before they all went back to their meals.

  Zeke shrugged. “Maybe you got the wrong town?”

  Okay, so this was how it was going to be. He’d told the woman at the hotel he was coming here and she’d warned them.