Page 37 of Flippin' Cowboy
Then he laughed, a genuinely amused laugh that lit up his face and eyes.
Oh, boy, thought Winnie. When he scowled all the time, it was easier to convince herself he wasn’t the most attractive man she’d ever met.
“Are you saying that we’re like a pair of bighorn sheep, battling it out on a mountaintop?” His tone was wry.
“I don’t know, and honestly, as long as there’s no bloodshed, I don’t care,” Karla cracked a brilliant smile, her deep plum lip gloss shining in the overhead lights. “Whatever magic you two are working on camera, keep it up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Winnie joked. Then she turned serious again. “What are we going to do about our discovery?”
Autumn piped up. “It’s a conundrum. On the one hand, the inn’s sordid past could be pure gold for not only the show, but for marketing the hotel once it reopens for business next summer. I mean, the only thing better for a historical building than a scandal is a haunting.” Her tone turned hopeful. “Is there any chance that this building could have ghosts?”
Winnie rolled her eyes at her sister. “C’mon, Autumn, you know as well as I do that if this place was haunted, everyone in town would know about it.”
“I guess you’re right.” She pursed her lips.
“Now, what are we going to do about Abigail?” asked Karla. “Do either of you have any ideas?”
Winnie and Autumn looked at each other. “I’m doubtful we can talk Grandma into agreeing to link the Snowberry name to a house of ill repute,” said Autumn. “But I’ll do my best.”
“And if you can’t convince her?” Karla’s tone turned sharp.
“We’ll find a way,” Nick predicted confidently. “Winnie and Autumn, if you set up a meeting with your grandma over dinner tomorrow, I’ll do some research in the meantime and make a case for acknowledging madams and soiled doves as important historical figures.”
Winnie nodded, impressed despite herself. “That sounds like a good plan.”
“Yeah. I think having a former bordello in town is a cool piece of history, rather than something to be ashamed of,” Autumn said. “We just have to get Grandma Abigail to agree.”
Chapter 13: Reclaiming the Past
Snowberry Springs Public Library
The next day
“Found it!” Nick exclaimed triumphantly the next afternoon.
He glanced at the vintage Breitling aviator wristwatch he’d inherited from his grandfather.And just in time, too.
Autumn and Winnie had scheduled a 6:00 p.m. dinner with their grandmother at the nearby Yummy Cowboy Diner.
Nick had spent a sleepless night online, searching through digitized nineteenth-century US census records. His goal had been to locate Caroline Snowberry’s first appearance in this area.
After filming a brief segment at the Snowberry Springs Inn that morning, where he explained the typical layout of a late nineteenth-century bordello, Karla had excused him from the set for the rest of the day. Nick had headed for the library to see what he could find in the town’s archives.
A wide yawn interrupted Nick’s moment of victory. He didn’t often pull all-nighters anymore.
Well, to be honest, while hehadstayed up later than usual trawling through the census records for 1870 to 1910, the real culprit in his tiredness was the tossing and turning he’d done for the remaining hours of the night until his alarm went off way too early.
Try as he might, he couldn’t get Winnie Snowberry out of his head.
He’d let his guard down after he and his feisty general contractor had established their truce. That had been a mistake. He had spent way too much time yesterday watching her work.
Or, more accurately, watching her petite, curvy body stretch and twist under her utilitarian brown overalls. That fucking pink tool belt hung low on her hips, emphasizing their generous curves. He had fantasized vividly about walking up behind her and settling his hands into the dip of her waist before sliding them up to cup her generous breasts.
And then he’d spent a miserable half-hour hoping no one noticed the bulge in his jeans.
I can’t touch her again. Ever, he told himself.
Putting his arm around her yesterday had been a mistake that had left him hard and aching for hours afterward. But he’d seen the naked devastation in her expression as her grandmother threatened to pull the rug out from under the project, and he couldn’t help himself.
