with her, given his crutches.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you…” She let the rest of her sentence drop off as her brow knit even further. “I imagine it’s probably difficult for you to shake hands with anybody right now.”
It was an obvious statement, but also a thoughtful one, Vince thought. Most people wouldn’t have considered how unwieldy his crutches made his movements, especially ones that required the use of his hands.
Or walking, but that was a different matter. He hoped he wouldn’t have to embarrass himself by hobbling around where she could see it, given how clumsy he was with the clutches. Whatever the learning curve was on these things, it was too high for Vince.
The woman shrugged, almost as if she’d been reading his thoughts. As quickly as her disconcerted expression had appeared, it was gone in a blink; replaced by the same pretty smile she’d shown him earlier, so honest and genuine that it reached her lustrous eyes.
“Melanie Frazer,” she repeated, emphasizing each syllable slightly, as if he were hard of hearing. Her right eyebrow lifted and lowered. She was staring intently at him, clearly expecting…
Something.
He didn’t know what she wanted. Or who she was, for that matter, although she clearly thought he should.
He’d already checked the register for guests arriving today, and her name wasn’t on it. She could be a passing traveler who mistook the lodge for a bed and breakfast, which happened from time to time, but Vince didn’t think so. He had the impression that maybe she was about to attempt to sell him something, although she had offered no more than her name.
“BBS. Boulder Business Services?” she prompted.
Vince shook his head, but Melanie’s statement reaffirmed his notion that she was some sort of salesperson. However, she wasn’t acting like this was a cold call. She was clearly under the impression that he should know what she was talking about, but he didn’t have a clue. As far as he could recall, he had never heard of her company before.
It occurred to him that someone at some other lodge might be waiting for her. In her defense, there were several establishments tucked along the highway, although most of them were closer to Estes Park.
Still, it was a stretch to believe she’d made such an error, given the fact that Morningway Lodge wasn’t exactly right off the highway. More like off-off, built privately, farther into the woods. And she was acting so completely and utterly sure of herself that Vince wondered if his own judgment was a little off-kilter.
He shook his head again. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know who…”
She leveled her gaze at him and cut him off. “The sign outside says Morningway Lodge.” She indicated the direction with a tiny jerk of her chin.
“Yes, but—”
“And you are Vincent Morningway.”
It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway.
“Perfect,” she said, nodding back at him and placing her hands palms down on the front desk. “Then I’m definitely in the right place.”
Vince adjusted his weight on his crutches and leaned back. He had the oddest impression that she was invading his personal space, even though all five feet three inches of her was still standing on the opposite side of the counter. This had to be the most unusual conversation he’d ever had, and it was definitely the most remarkable. To say he was confused would have been an understatement.
The bell rang again, crashing into Vince’s thoughts. His gaze automatically flashed toward the front door. His younger brother, Nate, burst through, his face flushed from the cold bite of the outdoor air and his breath heaving as if he’d been running.
“Ms. Frazer,” he stated, jogging up to Melanie. “I’m Nate Morningway. And I’m so sorry that I’m late.”
The man who approached Melanie was clearly military—or rather, ex-military, as his hair was growing out and he had a day’s worth of stubble on his cheeks. He looked years younger than Vince, although the two were clearly related, both with strong, chiseled facial features, firm jaws and similar muscular builds.
Nate reached for her hand and pumped it vigorously.
“Gracie—that’s my baby girl—apparently took my car keys off the table when I wasn’t looking.” He grinned self-deprecatingly. He seemed to be the type of man who relied upon his inherent charm to get him where he needed to go. Not like his brother, Vince, who, even upon their short acquaintance, struck Melanie as somewhat stiff and unyielding.
“I guess I left the keys too close to the edge,” Nate continued. “I looked for them, but for all I know, they’re in the bottom of Gracie’s toy box. Anyway, I finally gave up the search and decided to jog over to meet you. It’s only a mile or so.”
Melanie chuckled, half at the humorous story Nate was relating, and half in relief that someone actually knew who she was and, by extension—hopefully—why she was here. Vince’s bewilderment and the odd way he had reacted when she’d mentioned her name and the company she worked for had thrown her off a little bit.
“I’m the guy who hired you,” Nate explained.
“My file says my services are for Vincent Morningway,” she stated, a little confused.
Her hand tightened on her satchel. She was prepared, as she always was upon embarking on a new project, and she knew she wasn’t wrong about this. Vincent Morningway. Morningway Lodge. Built to accommodate families of those recuperating at a nearby physical rehabilitation hospital, she recalled from the research she’d done.
“Yes,” Nate agreed easily, and then poked a thumb toward Vince. “That’s him. Vince Morningway—my older brother,” he said in a teasing tone of voice.
“Vince,” Nate continued as a formal introduction, “this is Melanie Frazer. She’s going to be your new business consultant. She’s here to—”
“Excuse me?” Vince interrupted, sounding exasperated. “Give me some frame of reference because I don’t know what you’re talking about. What did you do this time, Nate?”
At first Melanie thought Vince had taken offense at Nate’s off-the-cuff jesting, but upon reflection, she decided it was more than that. Vince’s words were no less than an accusation, and sounded strained and harassed. Melanie’s gaze immediately switched to his direction.
Vince was glaring daggers at his brother, and the muscle in the corner of his jaw twitched rhythmically, a probable indication that he was genuinely annoyed with Nate.
“What did you do this time?” Vince demanded.
For some reason Vince’s change in demeanor struck Melanie as odd and out of character for him. It was a complete turnaround from her initial assessment. He’d appeared fatigued, maybe, but not cross. He’d been perfectly polite with her, and his gaze was kind.
As was her habit—possibly a bad one—she had already formed an opinion about the man she’d be working with. She’d had too much personality profiling training, she supposed.
The first thing she’d noticed when she’d entered the lodge was how endearingly disheveled Vince looked. Although his smile was strained at the corners, his bright blue eyes were clear and friendly. His sports coat was several years out of style, and his hair looked like he’d combed it with a firecracker.
Dark brown hair tumbled over his brow, and Melanie noted the single streak of silver coursing through it, a telltale sign as to how stressed and overworked the man really was; that, and the lines of fatigue that marred his brow, only slightly concealed by his rectangular black-rimmed glasses, probably the only contemporary piece of his entire wardrobe.
Still, he was a good-looking guy, all things being equal. And if nothing else, his currently tousled appearance was a clear indication of how useful her services could be for him—or rather, for Morningway