"But he wrote a new will leaving his estate to me. I had it. I gave it to you."

"Unfortunately, the necessary paperwork never got filed on that, either. I don't know whose mistake it was, but the new will was never validated. His original one leaves everything to Jean, and that's what the court decreed. You have thirty days to transfer the money to her account. I can handle that for you, if you wish."

Addie leaned against the counter, struggling to remain standing. "I'll have to get back to you on that."

"I'm sorry, Miss Murphy."

"Yeah, thanks." She hung up the phone, trying to process what he'd told her.

After everything she'd been through with her father-both of them unceremoniously kicked out of their family home, his illness and ultimate death-she never in a million years would have guessed he hadn't filed the divorce papers. Addie was used to her mother letting her down. The thought that her father had been so careless cut through her like a knife.

She took a few deep breaths. Quit blaming everyone else. She needed to stand up and take responsibility for her own life. This mess wasn't her father's fault. It wasn't even her mother's. Jean Murphy did what was best for herself. Always had, always would. Addie should be used to that.

But at that moment, having a parent to turn to would have been so nice. Her arms, rigid against the front counter in an effort to hold herself upright, buckled. Addie dropped to her knees. Great, heaving sobs escaped, and she buried her face in her hands. When she was all cried out, she curled up into a ball and closed her eyes.

93.

Chapter Twelve.

Mel hurried in the front door of the inn. "Addie?"

She'd heard from Nate that they'd put Chloe on a bus headed west. When he'd said he'd tried to call Addie and couldn't reach her, Mel hung up and tried the number. She got no answer, either.

She'd convinced Naomi to let her take an early lunch break and headed to the inn.

Addie's car was there, so unless she'd walked somewhere, she was home. "Addie?"

"In here," Addie's voice sounded from the bedroom.

Mel grinned. "Were you expecting me? I've only got an hour, but if we hurry-" She froze.

Addie lay curled up on top of the comforter, hair askew, face tear-stained.

"What happened? Are you all right?" Mel rushed to her side. "Did someone-"

Addie jerked away. "I'm okay. Nothing's happened, really, except my life is over."

"What the h.e.l.l is that supposed to mean?" Mel sat next to her.

"My lawyer called. Apparently my father never filed divorce papers, and his new will was never validated, so Mother won the case. I have thirty days to repay the money I thought I'd inherited."

"Oh s.h.i.t." Mel stood and paced. "Okay, we can figure this out. We'll take a mortgage. I have some money."

"Mel, stop it!" Addie sat up. "This isn't something you can fix. You don't have the kind of money I need, and I'm not sure I'd take it if you did. I've told you how I feel about a mortgage. I've got no guests. Zero. How can I pay a monthly bill with such a wildly irregular income?"

"Sell the inn! Move in with me, and we'll figure out what you want to do next with your life. We can do this, Addie. As long as we're together, you and I can make this work."

Addie swiped a tissue from the box on her bed and wiped her nose. "I'm not worth it, Mel. The best thing I could do for you would be to leave Cattle Valley and never look back."

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She walked to the bureau and looked at her reflection in the mirror. "More fool's gold.

Except in this case, I don't look so hot on the outside."

Anger bubbled inside Mel. She got up and stood behind Addie, grabbing her shoulders so they both looked into the mirror.

"You are not worthless on the inside. And yeah, you've had better days, appearance-wise, but d.a.m.n it, I've told you repeatedly, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever known."

Mel pushed her face next to Addie's and continued looking at her through the mirror.

"I'm sorry about your parents. It sucks, and it's not fair. But your life is far from over. I love you, Addie Murphy. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, whether we live here at the inn, or in my one-bedroom apartment or someplace totally different than Cattle Valley. I'd do that for you, because I love you."

Tears streamed down Addie's face again. "Don't. Please don't. This is happening too fast. I need time to figure things out."

Mel wrapped her arms around Addie's body from behind. "I understand you need time. Just please, don't shut me out. Let me help you decide what to do."

"I can't." Addie shrugged loose and moved away. "I'm sorry, Melissa. I don't know what I have to offer, right now. I need to be alone. Please take your things and go." She turned and walked from the room.

Mel stared at the empty doorway. It isn't going to end like this. "Addie!" she cried.

"Please, just go!" Addie's voice was choked with sobs.

Not sure whether to be hurt or angry, Mel shoved the few personal items she had in the room into a bag she'd left there and started out. Reconsidering, she glanced into the hall to make sure Addie wasn't coming. There was no sign of her, so Mel hurried to the drawer where she knew Addie kept some personal papers.

Mel rifled through them until she found what she was looking for. She copied down the address then put everything back the way it had been. Returning to the front room, she found Addie staring out the window.

"I'm going, now. You know if you need me, you can call anytime, day or night, and I'll be here."

"I know." Addie didn't look at her.

95.

In the short time they'd known each other, Mel had come to understand Addie needed her s.p.a.ce. She'd go for now and pray Addie didn't hate her for what she was about to do, but Mel saw no other choice.

"Bye," she said softly and slipped out the door.

The flight from Sheridan to Colorado Springs took almost six hours, because of a long layover in Denver. Mel left Thursday morning, hoping to catch Addie's mother at home after work that evening. If she couldn't, she had Jean's work address and would go there on Friday. But finding the woman at home, alone, would be preferable.

Mel travelled light with only one carry-on bag, and she snagged a taxi right in front of the airport. She gave the driver the address, and he estimated it would take twenty minutes to get there. She glanced at her watch. The timing should be perfect, if Jean went straight home after work. If, if, if... Mel wondered if she were doing the right thing. In her heart, she felt like she was.

The driver pulled to a stop in front of a medium-sized brick house with tulips springing up along the front walk. The Tulip Festival. Mel smiled to herself, remembering what Addie told her about Nate's scam to get rid of Chloe. She missed Addie. h.e.l.l, she missed Nate. She missed Cattle Valley and, at that moment, wished desperately she was back there.

"This is it, lady. You want me to wait?"

Mel glanced at the fare box and handed him some cash with a tip. "Could you wait a couple of minutes, please? I'm not sure anyone is home."

He waved the cash. "This'll get you five minutes."

"Thanks." She hoisted her bag and climbed out, walking slowly up the sidewalk. She took a deep breath, rang the bell and waited extremely long seconds. She got dizzy then realised she'd forgotten to let out the breath. She exhaled and inhaled slowly, attempting to calm herself.

When the front door opened, the woman in front of her caught Mel by surprise.

Nowhere nearly as intimidating as she'd expected, Jean Murphy was short and plump with *

96.

tired eyes and teased, dyed-black hair. There was no doubt about who she was, she had the same mascara-lined brown eyes as Addie.

"Mrs. Murphy?"

"Yes?" the woman responded pleasantly.

"I'm, uh, Melissa Danes. A friend of Addie's from Wyoming."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Wyoming? Is that where she got off to? I hadn't heard."

"Yes, it is. I hoped I could have a word with you. Please."

Jean looked uncertain but finally stepped aside and motioned Mel in.

Mel waved to the cab driver and went into the house.

"Does my daughter know you're here, Miss Danes?"

"No." Mel set her bag down on the floor. "She'd probably be pretty unhappy."

"I'd tend to agree with you. She and I never did see eye to eye, as hard as I tried." Jean motioned her to the sofa. "Have a seat. Can I get you some coffee or tea?"

"No, thank you." Mel sat, noticing the remains of a once-frozen, pre-packaged dinner on the coffee table.

A quiz show blared from the TV. Jean grabbed the remote and hit mute. "What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to tell you a little about Addie's life. Did you know she bought an inn? It's a beautiful bed and breakfast. Some kids vandalised it before she arrived in town, so she's had to spend weeks fixing the place up. It's finally ready to go, and it looks just lovely. Addie's done a wonderful job."

Jean stared at her. "So?"

Mel shifted uncomfortably. "I just thought if you knew how well Addie is doing, you might be happy for her."

"What Adeline does now is of little concern to me. I did the best I could for her, but she was a wilful teenager and fought me at every turn. Once she reached the age of majority, she took off, virtually cutting me out of her life. That's the way she wants it, that's the way it is."

Two sides to every story. Mel's parents always told her that. She took a breath, hoping she was doing the right thing, and said, "Addie thinks you kicked her out because you discovered she was a lesbian."

"What? Ridiculous!" Jean shuffled her fingers and glanced around nervously.

97.

"Really?" Mel wasn't sure she believed her, but that was in the past. It was what Jean said and did now that counted. "If that isn't an issue, then maybe you and Addie could talk sometime. I'm sure she'd really enjoy that."

"I don't know." Addie's mother didn't seem convinced.

Mel had trouble understanding Jean's point of view, but how Mel felt wasn't the issue, she was there for Addie. Playing her final card, she spilled the reason for her visit. "Addie invested every dime from her father's estate into that inn. If you take the money back, she's going to lose everything."

Jean's eyebrows rose. "Ah, the heart of the matter. Are you sure my daughter didn't send you? This seems like something she'd do. She's always begged for handouts, taking whatever anyone has to give. I knew she wouldn't part with my inheritance easily."

Addie begged for handouts? Mel wondered if she truly was in the right house. Jean and Addie Murphy were apparently far apart in their views of each other. She shook her head.

"Addie doesn't know I'm here. I care about her, Mrs. Murphy. I don't want to see her lose the inn. It seems like she's finally happy for the first time in who knows how long."

"And you're blaming that on me?" Jean screeched. "I did the best I could for that wilful child! Nothing was ever good enough. She left home when she was legally able, and I barely saw her after that. Worse yet, she took my husband from me."