A Bandit Creek Miracle Read online

  A BANDIT CREEK MIRACLE

  A Bandit Creek Contemporary Romance

  By

  Brenda Sinclair

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright May 2012 Brenda Sinclair

  ISBN 978-0-9880157-1-5

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you respecting the hard work of this author. Except for use in any review, the reproduction of this work in whole or in part in any form now known or hereafter invented is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names.

  Acknowledgments

  An enormous heartfelt thank you to the wonderful Bandit Creek authors who assisted me with this story. Your support and encouragement are greatly appreciated, and I’m thankful to be a part of this project.

  A special thank you goes out to Victoria Chatham, Brenda Collins, Jill Christie, Amy Jo Fleming, Sharon Vierboom, A. M. Westerling, and Pamela Yaye for reading early drafts and providing insightful critiques.

  Thank you also to my copy editor Ted Williams for your skill and patience. And to April Martinez for the wonderful cover.

  Dedication

  To the late June Wright, a former resident of the Parkvale Lodge in Red Deer, Alberta, Canada. June provided me with endless encouragement, delighted in reading my stories, and instilled in me the belief that someday I’d become a published author. She lived life to the fullest and inspired me to follow her lead.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Excerpt from Twice Shy by Jill Christie

  About the Author

  You can find Brenda at

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Where is that damn hotel?”

  Amanda Bailey steered her three-year-old red BMW coupe along the streets of Bandit Creek, Montana. The town’s population hovered at around three thousand, and she’d convinced herself she could locate her destination without directions. She hadn’t planned to arrive after dark.

  Glancing at her watch, she discovered the time was already twenty minutes after ten. Thankfully, the highways were clear. But having driven almost non-stop from Helena, she couldn’t wait for this day to end. Her eyes strained to focus on the road ahead, and she still hadn’t spotted the New Golden Nugget Hotel.

  She continued driving up one street and down another, convinced the hotel would appear around the next corner. As she spotted a diner, her stomach growled a reminder that she hadn’t eaten since noon. Several pickup trucks and two cars were parked in front. Amanda pulled into a parking spot across the street from Ma’s Kitchen.

  “Well, Ma, I hope you serve up directions as well as meals.” Amanda grabbed her purse off the passenger seat and clambered out of the car. She stretched her back, hunched and released her shoulders, and then inhaled the clean country air. There wasn’t any familiar city noise. No ambulance sirens screaming, no horns honking. Except for a dog barking in the distance, the town remained eerily quiet.

  Amanda dashed across the pavement, dodging a few puddles of snowy mush that threatened to ruin her new leather fashion boots. A tiny bell tinkled overhead as she entered the diner, and the aroma of strong coffee teased her nose. All conversation ceased, and a dozen heads swiveled toward the door to acknowledge the new arrival. Surprised expressions replaced the locals’ welcoming smiles when they spotted her. Obviously, at this time of night, they’d expected to see a familiar face.

  “Come in, dear.” A plump woman with tight curly silver hair done up in a bun strode toward her carrying a menu. Her cheery floral apron covered a short-sleeved white blouse and neat navy slacks, a tea towel rode her right shoulder, and keen eyes peered at her from behind out-of-date eyeglasses.

  “Hello. I’d kill for a cup of coffee.” Amanda glanced around the diner. A horseshoe shaped counter with red-vinyl upholstered stools caught her eye. A row of booths sat against the far wall, and various square wooden tables and low-backed chairs utilized the remaining floor space. Flimsy red gingham curtains framed the front windows and a variety of historical photographs hung on the white painted walls. The term ‘quaint’ flashed through her mind. A perfect setting for a 1950’s diner scene in a movie, she thought. Do the big-name California film producers know about this place?

  “Often hear ‘kill for a cup of coffee’ first thing in the morning, not at this time of night.” The woman chuckled and motioned Amanda forward. “We don’t bother with a PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED sign like you see in the city. Just pick a seat and plant it, honey.”

  As Amanda cautiously stepped across the slush-spattered linoleum floor, she removed her black wool ¾-length coat revealing a white cashmere sweater tucked into black dress pants. She chose a table beside a window and slung her coat over the chair back. She lowered herself onto the seat, placed her purse on the table, and loosened the aqua cashmere scarf wrapped around her neck.

  Her server set the menu in front of her and then stood hands on hips.

  “Thanks, Ma.” Amanda picked up the menu.

  “Actually, honey, the name’s Lucy. And that’s George over there inside the horseshoe jawing with them cowboys.” Lucy pointed in the gentlemen’s direction with her thumb as if hitchhiking on the I-90. Hearing his name, George looked up and waved.

  “Sorry, the sign outside…”

  “Most newcomers to town make the same mistake. Usually, I don’t even bother to correct the tourists.” Lucy cackled and stuck out her beefy hand. “You must be the gal replacing the manager at the Ellis Bank during her maternity leave. Catherine dropped by for lunch and mentioned you’d be arriving today.”

  “Amanda Bailey.” She shook Lucy’s slightly calloused hand. “Sorry, my hands feel like ice.”

  “As soon as the sun goes down seems the temperature takes a nose dive. I’ll fetch you a mug of coffee to warm your insides and lift your spirits.”

  “Just black, please. Do you have decaf?” Amanda required something stronger than coffee to drag her out of this dark mood, but it didn’t look like they served wine here.

  She detested winter weather and she hated small towns. Her parents insisted she and her siblings spend summers with her grandparents at her mother’s small Minnesota hometown. There was no movie theater or even a library, and she soon discovered that her grandmother’s sole source of entertainment was gossiping with her lady friends.

  “Nope. None of them fancy lattes and such neither, just plain old coffee.” Lucy turned and scurried away.

  “Why am I not surprised?” muttered Amanda. Bandit Creek was the last place on earth she wanted to be. A city girl through-and-through, she’d attempted every means possible to avoid this small town purgatory. But her boss and best friend, Susan Sanders, warned her that if she expected a future promotion to manager of a city bank she should accept this temporary assignment.

  She’d barely glanced at the menu before the server returned to the table and plunked down a white ceramic mug of steaming brew.

  “Decid
ed what you want?”

  Amanda thought the woman appeared a-little-rough-around-the-edges. But a rough edge here and there never hurt anyone.

  “I’ll have a bowl of the homemade chicken noodle soup, a cheeseburger, loaded, and sweet potato fries, please.” Amanda passed the menu back to Lucy. “Does salad come with the burger?”

  “Yep, coleslaw comes with your meal.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t consider coleslaw to be salad,” stated Amanda, smiling. She caught a glimpse of one of the guys seated at the horseshoe counter. The Hollywood-handsome cowboy faced backwards on the stool, slouching, resting his elbows on the counter behind him. He smiled broadly and his big brown eyes met hers for several seconds causing her heartbeat to race. Thankfully, the waitress had seated her before she’d fallen weak-kneed under the spell of this good-looking cowboy. After the horrendous year she’d just endured, Amanda enjoyed the attention he bestowed on her.

  “Close enough. We put two kinds of cabbage in it—green and red.” Lucy tapped her pen on the order pad. “So that’s soup, cheeseburger, sweet tater fries and coleslaw. You’re my kind of gal. Healthy appetite.”

  Amanda grimaced at the comment. She still struggled to maintain her weight, having lost so many pounds during the year-long chemo and radiation treatments and recovery. All of her girlfriends back in Helena envied her ability to eat everything in sight, one consolation for surviving the cancer. She leaned her elbows on the table, tented her fingers. “I might be tempted to order a piece of lemon pie.”

  “There’s one piece of lemon meringue left. Those cowboys dropped by after the cattlemen’s meeting for coffee and pie. And the other folks arrived when the movie theater let out.” Lucy whispered in a conspirator-like manner, “I’ll hide that last piece under the counter until you finish the first course.”

  “I wondered why there were so many people in here at this hour. Thank you for saving the pie.” Amanda smiled. Dessert always cheered her up. “Where’s the Ladies’ Room?”

  Lucy pointed toward the overhead sign in back and then headed toward the kitchen.

  Amanda blew on the steaming coffee, took a sip, and then glanced toward the horseshoe counter. The cowboy met her eyes again, and his bushy moustache twitched slightly as his full lips hinted at a grin. She’d spent most of the past year bald, her head covered with a scarf, nauseous and weak as a kitten. Being admired by a handsome cowboy brightened Amanda’s mood a notch and ignited her playful side. She copied his position: slouching in her chair, crossing her ankles and arms, staring right back at him. His grin broadened.

  A minute later, Amanda regretted her playfulness, her body aching from sitting in a fixed position while driving for so many hours. Her leg muscles screamed ‘what the hell are you doing’? And she fervently prayed she didn’t slide off the edge of the chair and land on her butt under the table. Feeling her face redden, she struggled to stand, grabbed her purse, and headed toward the restrooms in back.

  As she wended her way between the tables, she observed the other patrons. A gray-haired couple occupied a corner booth, and they smiled as she glanced in their direction. The cowboys seated around the horseshoe nodded and touched the brim of their Stetsons as she approached. One fellow appeared older than the others, but none of them stood out as anything other than typical small town guys. Mr. Hollywood-handsome being the exception.

  “Evening, ma’am.” The handsome cowboy’s deep masculine voice rumbled in his broad chest, and he removed the Stetson and set it on his thigh. He wore jeans, a chambray shirt, open denim jacket and well-worn cowboy boots which suggested he was the genuine article.

  “Good evening.” Amanda stopped directly in front of the good-looking fellow.

  “I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I couldn’t help overhear your conversation with Lucy. So, you’re the gal replacing my sister-in-law, Catherine.” The cowboy leaned forward, extended his hand. “Jeremy Branigan.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Branigan. I’m Amanda Bailey.” Amanda shook his hand and felt an electric current race up her arm. She’d never felt such an immediate attraction to a guy before, and she imagined running her fingers through his dark brown, almost shoulder-length curls. The laugh lines around his eyes hinted at his sense of humor, and she’d always been attracted to a deep male voice that rattled her mind in equal proportion to the degree of rattling in the fellow’s chest.

  Jeremy introduced her to the other gentlemen seated around the horseshoe, and Amanda shook their hands. She’d never remember them all, but the name Jeremy Branigan was permanently burned into her mind like a brand on a steer’s hide.

  They just stared at each other for an embarrassing length of time. Amanda cleared her throat and shifted to her other foot. Her brain had dissolved into mush, and she couldn’t think of one intelligent thing to say. Those beautiful brown eyes almost spoke to her when he smiled. She mentally shook herself, fearing she might melt into a puddle at his feet.

  “I guess I’ll be seeing you around town, ma’am.” Jeremy replaced his Stetson on his head, touched the brim.

  Amanda exhaled, unaware she’d been holding her breath while she watched the cowboy slide his long legs back under the counter. She stumbled down the narrow hallway toward a door labeled LADIES while mentally restarting her thought processes.

  She glanced back toward the horseshoe counter and caught Jeremy watching her. Had the handsome cowboy felt a similar attraction to her? Or like most guys did he just habitually check out a woman’s behind? She hoped Jeremy hadn’t been disappointed. She dashed into the Ladies’ room and locked the door, admitting to herself she couldn’t fault Jeremy’s behavior. She’d been guilty of checking out a few male rear ends on the sly, too.

  On her way back to the table, a pleasantly-plump, casually dressed couple waved her over to their table.

  “I bet you’re the new banker. I could tell right off, you being all dressed up so professional and all.” The fellow was obviously expecting her to confirm his guess.

  “Amanda Bailey.” Introductions were made and hands were shook. She assumed they were customers at the bank.

  By the time she returned to her table, the cowboys had left the diner.

  Lucy arrived with her soup, and Amanda suddenly remembered she required directions to the hotel. The friendly woman’s banter and the testosterone-oozing cowboy had distracted her from her second purpose in stopping.

  “Before I forget, Lucy, could you please give me directions to the New Golden Nugget Hotel?” Amanda reached for the soup spoon.

  “Yep. I’ll draw you a map, honey.” Lucy grabbed a paper napkin out of the holder and dug out a ballpoint pen from her apron pocket. “You’ll love staying at the Nugget. After the flood in 1911, Mr. and Mrs. Vanderberg rebuilt the hotel. Their great granddaughter, Elsie Rhodes, owns the place now. She’s a tad eccentric, but she’s a good soul.”

  Amanda studied the completed map. The combination of lines and squiggles resembled an aerial view of a corn maze in August. The street names were indecipherable. Doctors wrote more legibly. “Could you please explain the route, too?” Amanda memorized the directions as recited.

  When she asked for her bill, Lucy informed her that Jeremy Branigan paid for her meal. Amanda started to object, but Lucy waved off her protests. “Don’t worry about it, honey. That wealthy rascal carries around hundred dollar bills for pocket change.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  A duffel bag rode Amanda’s left shoulder and a pair of wheeled suitcases rolled along behind her as she struggled through the glass-fronted doors of the main entrance to the New Golden Nugget Hotel. With polished plank floors, towering ceilings, rich red velvet draperies on the row of rectangular front windows, and a sturdy wooden check-in counter, the hotel appeared only slightly updated in a hundred years.

  She stepped up to the front desk and parked her luggage on the floor. “Hello, I’d like to check in, please.”

  “Good evening, ma’am.” A dark-haired fellow, wearing wire-rimmed gla
sses and a toothy smile, peeked over a wide screen monitor at her. “Do you have a reservation?”

  “Yes, under the name Amanda Bailey.” She smiled, expending every bit of her remaining patience and energy. While the clerk searched for her reservation, Amanda glanced around the lobby of the charming old hotel.

  The soiled carpet in the sitting area was understandable, considering the weather. The white walls sparkled, and a hint of fresh paint lingered in the air. The faux-leather sofa and several chairs appeared newly purchased or recently re-upholstered. Newspapers and magazines littered several ornately carved wooden tables, but the furniture appeared dust free.

  The fellow dipped his head and peered over his glasses. “Ah, yes, I’ve found your reservation. You must be the lady replacing Catherine.”

  “That’s correct.” Amanda glanced at the wall calendar, February 3. May flowers would be blooming before she could return to Helena.

  “I hope you enjoy your stay in Bandit Creek, Miss Bailey.” The young man tapped the keyboard as he spoke. “Miss Pringle from the bank reserved the non-smoking deluxe room for you. I hope that’s satisfactory. Of course, we don’t have anything better.”

  Amanda handed the fellow her credit card. “I’m certain it’s fine. Can someone help with my bags, please?” After driving most of the day, she could sleep on a cement slab at this point.

  The clerk ordered customer assistance by phone and then handed her a room key and her credit card. “Someone will be along shortly. Enjoy your stay with us.”

  “Thank you. Does the hotel have a pool or gym?” Amanda returned her credit card to her wallet and stuffed it back into her purse.

  “No, ma’am, there’s nothing like that.”

  A young man appeared at Amanda’s side, tossed the duffel bag’s strap over his shoulder and grabbed her two suitcases. “Hi, ma’am, I’m Carl. There are only three floors in the hotel, and the owner doesn’t believe in elevators. We’ll take the stairs.”