Winner Takes All, page 3
“Here, put this one on.” Grace handed her a straw cowgirl hat. “You need to look the part.”
Colleen set the hat on her head then swept her hair behind her shoulders. Hope I don’t look like a city girl trying to play country.
The baby monitor attached to Grace’s hip squawked. “John’s up.” Grace lowered the volume button. “He’ll want to eat. I’ll send out Heath to help you.”
With Grace on her way back to the white farm house, Jenny smiled at Colleen. “Relax, you’ll be great.” She lifted her cell phone and swirled her finger, the signal to begin.
Colleen inhaled the scents of grass and damp earth. As she shifted her weight, the ground underneath her boots squished. After one last deep breath, she began her pitch.
Halfway through, Heath appeared beside her. “Let me give it to you straight.” He looked into the camera and smiled. “This girl’s the real MVP. She reached out when no one would touch me with a ten-foot pole. She guided me back to the light. This veteran’s retreat she has planned will be a lifesaver. And I’m not saying that to be overdramatic. Vets and their families need a place like this.”
Colleen’s heart grew about ten sizes during Heath’s speech. When she’d first opened her practice in Liberty Ridge, Heath had been one of her first patients. He’d been a tough nut—angry with himself and the world. And with his healing, he’d become the motivation behind the urgency to start her retreat.
Wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, she faced Jenny and finished her audition spiel. Afterward, she replayed the video to watch the results. Her performance was cringe-worthy, but she had to admit the pitch turned out pretty good—mostly due to Heath.
“I love it.” Jenny twirled in a little dance.
Her twin girls appeared from the horse stables and ran across the yard. They were covered in dirt and hay and didn’t waste a second before jumping on Heath.
Colleen laughed and stepped out of the way. “I’ll take it home and upload it. Tomorrow’s the cutoff date.”
“They’d be crazy not to pick you.” Heath shook one leg and then the other in an attempt to remove his nieces, who had both wrapped themselves around his legs. “Hey, you little barnacles. I need these to walk.”
They giggled and held on tighter.
While watching the sweet interaction between the heavily tattooed, former soldier with PTSD, and the little girls, she hardened her resolve. She would get the retreat off the ground. So many veterans and their families needed her help. She had to win.
Chapter Three
Two weeks later, Colleen parked her car in the driveway of her parents’ house. Well, her dad’s house to be exact. Clive Gardner had lost his wife, Colleen’s mother, in a car accident when Colleen was six years old. After Colleen had moved away to attend college, Clive resided in the large Spanish Colonial home alone with only a bottle of scotch for company.
She’d been so young when her mom suddenly disappeared from her life. Memories of her were worn and faded. Smells seemed to be the strongest connection between Colleen and her late mother. A breeze blowing the scent of honeysuckle or a woman walking past wearing her mother’s favorite perfume would arouse a longing for someone she loved but couldn’t remember.
“Dad,” Colleen called out as she entered the house. Her voice echoed off the tile floors. Her childhood home had been the envy of all her classmates. The Spanish-style house was beautifully decorated and spacious, boasting a large pool and guesthouse in the backyard. No one else saw the ghosts roaming the empty halls.
She entered her dad’s study and sighed. Clive sat behind his desk, a highball glass of amber liquid in his hand. By the telltale flush on his face, the drink wasn’t his first of the day. “Hey, Dad. You still up for going out to dinner?”
He looked up from the papers on his desk and blinked. After several seconds, he straightened. “Oh, yes…give me about another twenty minutes to finish up these reports.”
“I’ll wait out on the back portico.” She left the stuffy office and headed toward the sliding glass doors leading outside. The fresh air blew away the anxiety that took over whenever she was around her father. The water in the in-ground pool sparkled under the late afternoon sunshine, and she regretted not bringing her swimsuit. A quick dip in the pool would have refreshed her body and mind.
Earlier that day, Colleen had received a call from The Great American Scavenger Hunt producers. They’d loved her video and asked her to travel to LA for a live audition in two weeks.
By the time the phone call ended, she’d been wired with nervous excitement. If she made a good impression on the producers, in two months, she’d be competing for one million dollars. Ideas of how she would use the money for the veterans’ retreat swam through her head. Through all her fundraising so far, she’d raised a decent sum. Heath donated a portion of his grandparents’ inheritance, and she reluctantly accepted a very small donation from her father. The town rallied to her aid, between raffles and bake sales.
Given time, she could raise the remaining money, but she didn’t want to wait. Approximately twenty-two veterans committed suicide every day—one every sixty-five minutes. That statistic drove her to do whatever she could to help the struggling. She’d even go on a silly reality adventure show because she couldn’t afford to wait.
An hour later, sitting across from her dad at the Desert Rose Restaurant, Colleen watched him order another drink. Luckily, she’d be driving them both home. She often wondered if deep down he really wanted to kill himself. After twenty years of heavy drinking, he was well on his way. Clive Gardner was a classic example of a high-functioning alcoholic. From the outside, he seemed like the all-American dad, a successful business owner, and good guy. No one else saw what Colleen had to endure as a child. No one felt sorry for the rich, pretty little girl who seemed to have everything.
“How about you have an ice water instead?” Colleen said. “I have something I need to talk to you about and want you to remember our conversation.”
Her dad’s cheeks flushed red, and he narrowed his eyes. “You might be my daughter but that doesn’t give you the right to be disrespectful. Now, what do you need to tell me?”
No one talked down to Clive Gardner, not even his own daughter. “You know I’m raising money to open a veterans’ retreat. I have an opportunity to win the rest of the money.”
“Win?” Her dad took a sip of the newly furnished glass of scotch. “What do you mean win?”
“A new reality show was advertising an open casting call. The participants travel the country in a variation of a scavenger hunt, and the show films the whole thing. The winner gets one million dollars. They want me to come out and audition. Isn’t that great?” Ignoring the jitters swelling in her body, she leaned forward and rested her arms on the table.
“Really, Colleen.” His mouth twisted in a sneer. “Traipsing around the country for money. Don’t you think that behavior’s beneath you?”
In an attempt to push away disappointment, she closed her eyes. Of course, he’d consider the show beneath her, because she was a reflection of him, and Clive would never do anything demeaning. “Beneath me? After everything our military has done to protect us, I don’t see appearing on a reality show too much of an inconvenience.”
Thankfully, they were spared the impending argument by the arrival of Alex Murray, the restaurant’s owner and Colleen’s good friend.
“Hello, Mr. Gardner, Colleen.” He glanced between the two and smiled. “How’s your meal?”
“Very good, Alex,” Clive said. “My steak is cooked to perfection.” He picked up his fork and pressed down on the meat. Red juice puddled onto the plate. “Or should I say undercooked to perfection.”
“Glad to hear.” Alex folded his hands and rocked back on his heels. “Have you heard back from that show yet, Colleen? Jenny told me you sent in your video a few weeks ago.”
To her dad’s credit, he maintained an impassive expression. He’d had years to perfect his many illusions. He hid his sharp temper just as well as he did his alcoholism. Colleen faked a smile. She’d learned from the best. “I did. They want me to audition in LA soon. Tell Jenny thanks for being a killer videographer.”
“That’s great!” Alex patted her shoulder. “Well, I’ll let you get back to dinner. Enjoy.” He walked away.
Colleen was left to finish an uncomfortable dinner with her father.
Clive drained the rest of his drink, set down his glass on the table, and picked up his steak knife. “You’re not doing that show. I’ll give you whatever money you need for your little retreat thing. No daughter of mine will humiliate herself on national television.”
Frustration brewed. She leaned an elbow on the table and pinched the bridge of her nose. A tsunami of a headache washed away her previous good mood. Taking her dad’s money would be easy but attached to those dollars were strings. Clive was a master puppeteer, and she refused to be yanked around.
****
Storm ran his fingers over Harper’s fabric doll. The doll’s soft felt face snagged on the rough patches on his hand. He tossed the doll in the basket of toys set off in the corner of the room. The apartment he rented month-to-month was adequate. The small space had a tiny living room, galley kitchen, one bathroom, and two bedrooms. Right now, this place was all he could afford. But a rundown apartment with peeling wallpaper was no place to raise his little girl.
Every day away from Harper made the hole in Storm’s chest grow a little larger. Last weekend, Valerie met him in Austin to take Harper back to Sacramento. His life would have been so much easier if he and Valerie stayed together. They broke up before she found out she was pregnant. Storm tried to make the relationship work. In the end, they just didn’t love each other enough to commit to forever. “Mom, I’m meeting the realtor about the farmland for sale,” he called down the hall. One nice thing about their tight quarters was he never had to raise his voice in order to be heard. “Do you want to come with?”
“You really starting your own farm?” Rose stood at the doorway to her room, wearing a loose, colorful sundress.
“I don’t know. I need the money first. But I drove by this piece of land for sale the other day, and I want to go check it out.” His first choice would be to buy land in Northern California to be close to Valerie and Harper, but the region was ridiculously expensive. Plus, he had his mom to consider. She might need more time before she was ready to relocate.
“You win on that show, and you’ll have more than enough money to buy that land. You can show the people in this town that a Thompson is just as good as the rest of them.” She brushed the palm of her hand over his scruffy cheek. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better mother. I want to help you now, however I can.”
“You can help by taking care of yourself. I’m flying to LA next weekend for the live audition. I need to know you’ll stay on your medication while I’m gone.” He’d dragged her to see her doctor the day after Harper left. If she wanted to be a part of his and Harper’s life, she needed to start back on her prescription meds. No more excuses. No more lying to convince him she was doing fine. He wasn’t subjecting his daughter to the dangerous roller coaster ride he’d endured growing up.
“I promise to take my pills. I want you to go and get on that show. They’ll pick you for sure. You’ve grown into such a handsome man.”
Every time he looked in the mirror, he wondered what his father looked like. Rose had met him at the commune—a dashing stranger traveling across the country. After a few nights together, he’d moved on, never to be seen or heard from again. Nine months later, Storm was born. Rose never even learned the man’s last name.
“So, are you coming?” Storm asked. “My meeting with the realtor is in fifteen minutes.” After a short car ride out of the city limits, Storm pulled off on a dirt road. About a quarter of a mile down was the realtor’s beige sedan.
The property was perfect. Off in the distance, he could see a pond edged by tall trees. The realtor, a woman with a hairstyle that would have made the 80s proud, greeted them.
“Hi, Rose. So nice to see you again.” Nicole Evans gave his mom a stiff smile before turning her attention. “Well, Storm…here’s the property. What do you think?”
Before he could answer, another car approached, dust kicking up behind its tires. Just his luck, another potential buyer. Best case scenario, he was still months out from having the funds to buy this land—and only if he was cast for the show, and then won. By the time he’d be ready to purchase, this farmland would probably be long gone.
A silver luxury car parked behind his old clunker. Two women exited and began walking his way. Storm’s blood pressure immediately soared like the red-caped superhero—up, up, and away. He couldn’t believe his eyes. What was Colleen Gardner doing out here? On his farmland?
When she saw him, her eyes widened.
So, she’d finally figured out his identity. Was she disappointed he wasn’t the short, underweight boy who she’d loved to make fun of? He’d never make the mistake of trusting her again. If she thought she had any chance of belittling him now, she’d be very disappointed.
The woman walking with Colleen approached his realtor.
Colleen came to stand by his mother. “Hi, Ms. Thompson.” She smiled at Rose. “You look lovely today.”
Storm stepped between them.
Rose moved around Storm and took Colleen’s hand. “Hello, dear. What are you doing out here?”
“Mom, let’s take a walk and check out the pond.” Storm took hold of Rose’s elbow and started to lead her away.
She shook out of his grasp. “Don’t be rude, Storm. Surely, you remember Colleen Gardner from school.”
Colleen stared back with wide, ice blue eyes, which were framed with thick, dark lashes. If she wanted to look pure and innocent, she’d have to try harder. “Oh, I remember Colleen all right. She made sure she was pretty unforgettable.” Storm stood with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. He would have growled but decided that immature act would earn a slap from his mom.
“Storm.” Colleen’s knuckles paled as she gripped the handles of her purse. “Nice to see you again. I’m happy you’re back in town.”
“From what I remember, you were only happy flying around on your broom.”
Rose elbowed him in the ribs. “Storm, what’s gotten into you?”
“It’s fine, Ms. Thompson. I deserve his scorn.” Colleen’s smile faltered.
“Call me Rose. Did you know Storm is looking to start his organic farm? He thinks this land would be perfect.” Her hand swept over the rolling landscape. “Why are you here? Are you looking to start farming, too?”
Colleen’s eyes really met his for the first time.
“Oh, no. I’m opening a retreat for veterans suffering from mental and physical trauma as a result of their service. My friend, Michelle, found this property for sale and thought it’s the perfect location. She’s right. It is amazing.”
He suppressed his eager temper. No way he’d lose this land to Colleen. “That’s right, you’re a shrink now.”
Colleen stepped forward and jammed a finger into his chest. “You’ve been gone for a long time, so I’ll cut you some slack, but don’t you ever discredit my practice.” She tipped her head to meet his gaze. “I serve men and women who have given more to our country than we should ever ask. My mission is to help them make the transition into civilian life. The retreat I plan on opening is a tool to facilitate that.”
“Too many fancy words for my simple farmer brain.” Storm glanced down and imagined snatching her ridiculous-looking shoes and throwing them into the pond. Who wore high heels while walking around out in a field?
“So I’ve gathered.” Colleen’s blue eyes flashed.
He and Colleen mixed up a toxic potion.
Rose stepped between them. “I don’t understand half of what you two are saying to each other. Colleen, I’m glad to see you again. Storm, let’s look at that pond.”
Grabbing the hem of his shirt, she pulled him away from the impending eruption. For a middle-aged woman, Rose was quite strong.
“If you plan on living in Liberty Ridge, you’ll have to learn to be nice to Colleen.”
His mom’s green eyes pierced his conscience. “Why? Because her dad’s the richest man in town?”
“No. Clive Gardner has nothing to do with your behavior toward Colleen.”
They stopped beside the pond. He imagined his livestock bending their necks for a cool drink. He relaxed, and the tension in his neck and shoulders fell away.
Rose lost her balance on the uneven ground and took hold of his hand to steady herself. “Colleen has done a lot of good for the town. She’s helped people, myself included. She used to come out to the commune and talk with me. Colleen is one of the few people whom I’ve ever felt comfortable talking to about my…you know, condition.”
He couldn’t have been more stunned if his mom had grown wings and flown away. Meany Colleeny had visited his mom? She’d taken the time to help Rose, even without payment.
Okay, he’d conceded Colleen had grown up over the years. She’d gotten prettier since high school. Back then, he wouldn’t have thought she could get more beautiful. But a cute body and a few good deeds didn’t erase all the hurt she’d caused. And now, she might be after his dream piece of farmland.
Six years ago, he started yoga. Through daily practice, he’d flushed out many toxins. During meditation, he’d learned the art of healing. He’d forgiven his mother for his upbringing and problems outside her control.
Storm had let go of what made him unhappy. Instead, he focused his energy on his dreams. Now that he was home, where bad memories resided, he slipped back into old habits. Even after so many years, forgetting his feelings for Colleen seemed impossible.
Chapter Four
At least one hundred people must be stuffed into this room. Colleen lost count after sixty. Her rear had gone numb from sitting on a hard plastic chair for the last two hours, and she wiggled her toes in an effort to rejuvenate circulation in her legs. When she’d flown to LA for the live audition for The Great American Scavenger Hunt, she’d pictured a small, intimate affair. Not the cattle-loaded-into-a-semitrailer scenario playing out before her.
