Wyoming Cinderella

by Melissa Senate

  “What do you have in mind?” Zeke asked.

  “A basic talk on money and how it works. How to get some if you have none—in a way that will make you proud instead of land you in jail. My talk will focus on how I started as a ranch hand with nothing. So how to save, have a goal and work toward it instead of blowing all your money on stuff that won’t last. And some general encouragement on being successful and how that’s individual to each. That kind of thing.”

  “Count me in,” Zeke said. He was more than willing to help out. When he was a teen, he had a few great teachers who’d been encouraging and inspiring, and his siblings had been, too.

  Noah pumped his fist in the air. “Great. I’ll text you the details. I owe ya.” He eyed Ford. “I’ll be hitting you up in a couple weeks to talk about how to become a law enforcement officer. No one escapes my sibling resources.”

  Ford grinned. “Count me in, too. And in payment, next week you can help me look for the diary.”

  “Will do,” Noah said. “Gotta get back to the cabin. I’m on twin duty tonight while Sara has a girls’ night.” He waved and drove off in the green cart.

  Ford shook his head. “‘As I live and breathe,’ as my mom used to say. I’ll never get used to the changes in Noah. Man, did he do a one-eighty. For a while there, I thought I’d end up arresting him one day. I used to think that about Dad. That one day I’d have to arrest my own father if I joined the Bear Ridge PD.”

  Zeke sucked in a breath. “Is that why you left in the first place?”

  “Probably,” Ford said.

  And now Ford was ready to settle down, get married, have kids. Just like that. Why couldn’t Zeke feel that way?

  “Hey, Ford. This epiphany or whatever it is about being ready to get married and be a dad. Did it just come over you one day out of the blue or was it gradual?”

  “You know what they say—gradual and then all of a sudden. I’m ready. Now I just have to find her.”

  Molly’s pretty face floated into Zeke’s mind, her riotous curls bouncing around, brown eyes full of light and curiosity and passion for life. “What if it happened in reverse? If you maybe found the right woman but you weren’t ready for all that forever stuff.”

  “Way I see it, if you recognize that someone is the right woman, you’re ready.”

  Zeke almost jumped out of his skin. Just because he couldn’t stop thinking of Molly, just because he lit up like a Christmas tree whenever he was with her, just because he found her baby girl precious, didn’t mean she was the right woman.

  And what made it even harder was that he couldn’t separate Molly the admin from Molly the woman. He was entranced by the complete Molly Orton. But even if he wasn’t her boss, he wouldn’t be ready for a family. No, sir. Not by a long shot.

  Ping.

  A text from Molly.

  Help! My parents are arguing like crazy. They need you—if you’re available. I’m at their house.

  Arguing already? That was a surprise. Tim’s Tasty Tacos, with their new menu and location, had been a smash success since hour one of reopening this morning. Zeke hadn’t had a chance to check out the truck for himself, but Tim had messaged him photos of the line of people waiting to order, regardless of the cold. Tim had also sent a selfie of him and his wife with their heads poked out the window, huge smiles on their faces.

  So what had happened?

  Be there in a half hour, he texted back. Tell them to stop arguing till I get there to mediate. That should help calm them down.

  Thank you! You’re the best.

  No, Molly, you are.

  * * *

  When Zeke arrived at the Orton home, he could hear Tim and Abby arguing from their porch—with the door closed. What could possibly have happened? He’d been trying to speculate on the drive over but nothing made sense.

  When Molly opened the door, she shook her head, the bickering all the louder.

  “My father wants to sell Tim’s Tasty Tacos,” she whispered.

  Zeke stared at her. “What?”

  She shook her head again, worry and exasperation etched on her face.

  Why on earth would Tim want to sell after all he’d been through to turn the business around? Tim’s Tasty Tacos was now a success.

  He’d get to the bottom of it. “It’ll be okay,” he assured her. “Let’s go talk to your dad.”

  The worry on her face had him wishing he could pull her into a hug, a quick one.

  Which made him realize that he wanted to hug her because he cared about her. Deeply.

  “We’ve had a great day of sales!” Abby Orton was saying as Zeke entered the kitchen with Molly. “People were lined up for our tacos from opening at eleven in the morning until we closed at six. And you want to sell? I don’t understand!”

  Tim, leaning against the counter holding a mug of coffee, lifted his chin. “I keep trying to explain my way of thinking to you, Abby, but you’re not hearing me. I simply want to quit while we’re ahead.” He turned to Zeke. “Well, I don’t know that Molly had to call you. I can take things from here.”

  “I think it’s important for Zeke to be here,” Molly said. “Just in case you and Mom need an impartial voice, Dad.”

  “Thank you for coming, Zeke,” Abby said. She sat at the table, turning her own cup of coffee around and around. “I know it’s late and I’d appreciate your take on things. Would you like some coffee? Tim just made a fresh pot.”

  “I’d love some,” Zeke said. He knew to wait for information, not to press or push. The heart of the matter always came out faster, easier and more transparently that way.

  Molly opened a cabinet and got out a mug. “I’ll get it.”

  Zeke sent her a sympathetic smile. “Thanks, Molly.”

  Abby was staring at her husband. “So Mac Parker offers you a small fortune today for your brand-new successful business, and that’s it. You’re ready to hand it over just like that? I don’t get it no matter how times you try to explain yourself!”

  I don’t, either, Molly mouthed to Zeke.

  “We can recoup our money and take a trip, Abby,” Tim said, his voice gentle. “You always wanted to see the red rocks of Utah.”

  Abby sighed. They’d clearly been having this same conversation. “Yes, someday. But what I want now is to work in Tim’s Tasty Tacos! I had no idea how much I’d enjoy my second career. We’ve just started.”

  Tim took a sip of his coffee. “Well, I want to sell. I should be at the mini golf course and catching up on my reading, not working this hard.”

  Zeke studied Tim Orton’s voice and body language, trying to hear what he wasn’t saying, to read between the lines. But some vital information was missing here. Zeke knew it was coming, so he held tight and waited.

  “And my stake in the business is fifty-one percent,” Tim added, his voice a bit wobbly as if it had pained him to say those words. “You’re the one who insisted on that, Abby, so that means I should decide.”

  Abby’s face crumpled. “Because this was—is—your baby! Equal partners but with a smidge more to you since it was all your idea and your dream. And now you want to end it? I don’t understand at all!” Abby threw her hands up, stood and dabbed under her eyes, then fled the room.

  Molly stirred in one sugar and a dollop of cream and handed the mug of coffee to Zeke. He mouthed, Thanks, to her. Then she walked over to her father and put her hand on his arm. “Dad, I’m gonna go calm Mom down.” She kissed her father on the cheek, sent Zeke a pleading look, then left the kitchen.

  Once Molly’s feet could be heard on the stairs, Tim turned to Zeke.

  “I thought I wanted a taco truck, but I don’t,” Tim said. “It’s a lot. And I can get a lot for it. I’ve changed my mind and that’s that.”

  Zeke still wasn’t sure what was going on with Tim. He needed to ask some pointed questions. “Tell
me what went through your mind when the man your wife mentioned—Mac Parker?—offered to buy the business.”

  “Well, I was on my break at an off-peak time and window-shopping near the truck when Mac Parker came up to me. He asked me some questions about how business was going, said he saw the big lines today, and okay, I did brag a little about how well we’re doing now. He made me an offer on the spot. A really good offer. Like I said, Abby and I would recoup the money we laid out and then some. We could finally go on that cruise we’ve been talking about, too.”

  Zeke took a sip of his coffee. “Who’s Mac Parker?”

  “Oh, we went to high school together. He was a real star back then. Captain of this and that. I was more the science fair type.” He leaned closer. “I’ll tell you, it sure felt good having Mac Parker want something of mine.”

  Ah. The crux of the matter.

  “Of course, I didn’t tell him what hard work it was,” Tim added on a chuckle. “How much blood, sweat and tears go into creating one single taco. And heart, too—I mean, you’ve got to put your whole heart into it or the tacos will taste terrible. People know when there’s real care, real feeling, involved. And not just in the tacos but every aspect of the business.”

  “I absolutely agree. And this Mac Parker—is he the type to put his heart into what he does?”

  “Oh, please,” Tim said, narrowing his eyes. “He’s a silver platter type. Never had to work hard for anything. Opposite of me. And he’s not exactly a nice person. I’ll tell ya—I’ll never forget how, senior year, I finally worked up the courage to join the cross-country team when he was captain, and I always came in second to last—every race. He used to rib me all the time. ‘Hey, Orton, at least you’re not as slow as the kid in the wheelchair.’ God, what a jerk.”

  “So your business will go from Tim’s Tasty Tacos to Mac’s Tasty Tacos with no heart—or soul apparently.”

  “Yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “Good luck with that, Mac.”

  Zeke took another sip of his coffee. He was getting closer. “And you want to sell to him now, when you’re just starting, when business is booming your first day out, because...”

  Tim frowned. “Because he wants it—and for a small fortune. I’m a success. Me, Tim Orton, middle manager in the Converse County Hospital IT department for thirty years. Sure, the truck is a hit now—it’s a novelty, fun, easy menu. But if we kept it, eventually people will get bored and the lines will stop forming and the truck will fail and then guess who’s not going to see the red rocks of Utah? Who will be left with nothing?” He turned away, looking out the kitchen window.

  And there it was. The true heart of the matter: Fear of failure. Waiting for the ole other shoe to drop. For it all to be taken away—leaving not him but his wife with nothing. And Molly and Lucy without that rainy-day fund he’d talked about.

  “Tim, I’m not big on risk. It’s never been my game or strategy. I grew up with risk shadowing every corner of my life. I appreciate stability. Logic. A smart path forward. And with everything I know about business, my experience and instincts both tell me Tim’s Tasty Tacos is going to be a fixture in Prairie City for as long as the business makes you happy.”

  Tim tilted his head. “Makes me happy? But I can’t control how the business does. That can depend on so many factors.”

  “And the biggest factor is you. You and Abby. Tim’s Tasty Tacos is a success because you wanted this, you made it happen, you asked for help when it wasn’t going the way you envisioned and you implemented changes that turned business around. You also smartly brought in your wife as your partner. You’re a success because of you. It’s not about taking risks or possibly failing. You’re a success, Tim. All you have to do is keep doing what you’re doing and tweak when necessary.”

  Tears welled in Tim’s eyes. “I hate Mac Parker. That rat bastard. He can go to hell! And he’s not taking my family business with him.”

  Zeke grinned. “Now you’re talking.”

  “I’ve got loads of ideas if business ever stalls. So does Abby. We’re gonna be just fine.”

  Zeke nodded. “Yes, you will. And if you ever need guidance, I’m a text away. You saw that tonight.” He extended his hand.

  Tim pulled him into a bear hug. “Thank you, Zeke. Once again, you’ve set me straight and saved my hide. I insist on paying you.” He reached for his wallet.

  Zeke held up a palm. “And I insist you don’t. Molly called me in tonight. And she’s a godsend.”

  Tim eyed him. “She sure is. Pretty, too.”

  Zeke’s throat suddenly felt tight. “Very pretty.”

  Tim smiled, his eyes now bright and happy. “Well, if you’re not going to accept good old cash, I must insist you take this.” He opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of tequila, orange liqueur and a small container of lime juice. He put everything in a red gift bag.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Molly came into the kitchen and eyed them both. “Dad, you look a lot happier than you did fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Everything’s okay now, honey. I’m not selling the truck. Zeke here helped me understand a few things. Everything needs a Zeke.”

  Molly grinned and looked from her dad to Zeke, the warmth in her beautiful brown eyes making him almost blush. “Mom’s going to be very happy.”

  “And this is for you two,” Tim said, holding up the red bag. “All the mixings for classic margaritas—the perfect way to celebrate that Tim’s Tasty Tacos is here to stay.” He gave the bag to Molly with a big smile. “I’ll go tell your mom the good news,” he added before dashing out of the kitchen.

  Molly grinned. “I don’t know what you said—and so fast—but thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome. Glad I could help.”

  She looked at the red bag in her hand. “Could you go for a margarita? I sure could. This has been some day. And thanks to you, it ended very happily. If you’re free right now,” she added, “follow me to my place. Right now, Lucy’s fast asleep in the bassinet in my parents’ guest room. I’ll transfer her to her crib and whip us up two celebratory drinks.”

  He could stand here talking to her, looking at her, in her Wyoming Cowboys sweatshirt and gray yoga pants and fuzzy pink socks forever. A celebratory drink at her house? Why not. It wasn’t like they’d end up in bed. He’d simply stay on one side of her sofa and she’d stay on the other, and they’d clink and drink and he’d leave within a half hour. “Sounds good,” he said. “I could use a margarita myself. And I’m really glad everything worked out with your dad. He’s a great guy.”

  “I could kiss you,” she said, her cheeks turning red. “I mean, well, you know what I mean. It’s a saying.”

  Oh, Molly, he thought. I could kiss you, too.

  Chapter Eleven

  Fifteen minutes later, Zeke emerged from Molly’s kitchen with two margaritas, the rim of the wide-necked blue glasses dotted with salt. Just as she’d come downstairs from putting Lucy to bed, he set one down in front of her and then sat on the opposite end of the sofa.

  The last time he was on this sofa, he’d kissed her. The memory was so clear. He’d tucked her curl behind her ear and then their lips met and he’d wanted more. So much more.

  Molly. His everything.

  “Ooh, those look festive,” she said, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “And definitely just what the doctor ordered. Today really was some day.”

  “Was it?” he asked, thinking of what she’d had on her plate today. Nothing too hectic or out of the ordinary. But he’d been gone for a few hours, house-hunting with Danica. Perhaps during that time, she’d hit a hard patch of research in the case file he’d left her.

  She sat up straight and cleared her throat. “I, um, mean with my parents. All that arguing. Oy.”

  “Ah. Yeah, they were really at a stalemate. I’m glad you called me.”

 
She turned toward him. “To Dawson Solutions, Inc., saving the day again.” She held up her glass.

  He held up his and they clinked. “We’re a good team.”

  She smiled and paused with her glass midway to her mouth. “I meant you. Once again, you helped my family in life-changing ways. Seriously, Zeke—life-changing. When we left my parents’ house, I glanced in the living room window and saw my parents slow dancing.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, I caught that, too. They’re a good team.”

  “Yeah, they are. And when they’re both ready for a break, they’ll plan a vacation and my mother will still get to see those red rocks of Utah.” She took a long sip of her margarita. “Ooh, this is good.” Another long sip, then another. “So tart and delicious.”

  He sipped his own. It was good. “I actually had to Google the parts. I almost put in way too much orange liqueur. But now I can add ‘makes a mean margarita’ to my list of skills.”

  They clinked again and sipped some more.

  When was the last time he had a drink? A good while ago, some business function. Zeke had a beer every now and then but he rarely ever had a second. Reminded him of his dad, he supposed.

  “And I appreciate what you said about my helping your family. I love the work I do. Especially when it has fast results like tonight.”

  “How did you do it?” she asked. “How’d you turn him around?”

  Tim Orton had given Zeke blanket permission to bring in his daughter on all matters concerning the taco truck and Dawson Solutions, so he figured it was okay to tell Molly about her dad’s past with the man who’d offered to buy the business.

  “Wow. Why does high school have such a hold on everyone?” Molly asked. She took another sip of her margarita.

  “It’s when our identities are solidifying, when we’re discovering what matters to us, when our hearts are at their most vulnerable. It’s no wonder people tend to remember the slights and accomplishments back then with such force.” He smiled and shook his head. “And then just like that—” he snapped his fingers “—something you’ve been holding on to for decades disappears.”