In Plain Sight: A Fontaine Novel: Volume 1

In Plain Sight

A Fontaine Novel: Volume 1

Meighan Ammenwerth

ISBN 978-1-63784-207-2 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63784-208-9 (digital)

Copyright © 2023 by Meighan Ammenwerth

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Hawes & Jenkins Publishing

16427 N Scottsdale Road Suite 410

Scottsdale, AZ 85254

www.hawesjenkins.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

Our story continues in Volume II with Raylen Fontaine and Thomas Kilborn in Unwilling Heart.

About the Author

For Cory

and

our families

who were there during the good and the bad.

Love you all.

And for Elsa

My baby always brightens my day!

Thanks for all your support!

1

Ashton Fontaine sighed as he finished cataloging the painting he recently acquired. It was merely an image of an elderly woman sipping a cup of tea, but it was worth unimaginable riches.

The artist, Giovanni Battista Torriglia, was a famous Italian man, but he wasn't known for his art. The Torriglia name had been linked with scandal for many years. It was widely known that he had worked his wiles on a naïve Italian princess and nearly lost his head when her father, the king, discovered them. He disappeared just as quickly as he had arrived after mysteriously avoiding the chopping block.

Ashton let his eyes wander over the vivid colors and brushstrokes and admired the beauty he saw there. He knew it was probably one of the rarest paintings he collected in all his years of being an art appraiser. His client, Ramos Torriglia, hired him to retrieve the painting because it was a family heirloom that was lost for many years. It was also Ashton's understanding that the woman in the frame was Giovanni's great-grandmother, so it had sentimental value.

A knock sounded on the study room door followed by his manservant entering.

Yes, Paulie, what is it?

Begging your pardon, sir… But a message has just arrived for you, and I'm afraid it is rather urgent.

Ashton watched him fidget with and lift an envelope he was holding, his expression uncertain. Jonathan Paulie was a stoic man and didn't condone emotions of any kind. In his opinion, they made a person weak and vulnerable, and he certainly wasn't either of the two.

He lifted his hand up to retrieve it. How do you know it is urgent?

Paulie approached the desk, and Ashton turned the envelope over to open it only to see the word Urgent scrawled atop the seal.

Ah, I see.

Should I tell the messenger to await a reply, sir?

Ashton grasped a letter opener and cut through the seal. No. Should I need to reply, I will send word.

Very good, sir, Paulie said as he turned to leave the room.

Ashton unfolded the parchment in his hands, and he read the decidedly feminine script.

Ashton,

Your sister and I have taken on the daunting task of planning your mother's birthday celebration, and we both feel if you returned home for it, it will be the best present ever. I hope this letter finds you in good health, and we look forward to seeing you again soon.

Skylar

He set the paper down atop his desk and immediately rose to pour himself a glass of scotch only to walk toward the window overlooking the shop-lined street below his brownstone. He had returned home only once before to grieve over his father's death, but he'd left again just as quickly as he'd shown up. He hadn't even said goodbye to his siblings, let alone Skylar. His mother was the only one he had spoken to. Truth be told, he had chickened out, knowing everyone's feelings about him after the first time he vanished. His twin sister had been the only one to write to him over the years, besides his mother, and she was never shy about discussing any of the thoughts that came into her mind no matter how brutal they could be.

Recently though, he had been thinking about returning home more frequently. He currently wasn't working on any cases, and he thought it would be good to stretch his legs and relax a while. A vacation was long overdue, so the timing of his mother's birthday was very convenient. He glanced at the letter on his desk and a picture that lay next to it. It was worn and creased in many places since he usually kept it in his breast pocket, but the image was still as clear as the day it had been taken. And as his eyes remained fixed on it, he sighed because he knew there was some business at home that he needed to take care of.

He sipped his drink and looked out the window again, seeing several couples wandering arm in arm below. Normally, the sight wouldn't bother him, but since he had turned twenty-three a few months back, the sight only left him feeling empty and alone. Oh sure, he could have his choice of women here in the city, but none of them could even hold his attention longer than one evening out together. What he needed was a woman of strength and substance. Someone that could always make him smile and want to be with him for the remainder of his life. He wanted a partner.

He gulped down the remainder of his drink and moved back to his desk once more, sitting the glass down on the mahogany desktop. With one finger, he traced the only word on the letter that kept him transfixed: "Skylar."

His eyes went to the photograph again, studying the image of the beautiful face that stared back at him with only a hint of a smile on her lips. It was a candid shot that his brother Gabriel had taken just before he left home the first time. She was talking and laughing with his sister at the time, who was just out of the camera's shot, but it had captured every part of her that he knew so well, and he always cherished it. Yes, she was the business he wanted to sort out when he got home. She had never strayed too far from his mind in all the years he'd been gone, and he still felt terribly guilty and ashamed about how he treated her. He knew the gentlemanly thing to do would be to explain his fear at the time and beg her forgiveness. Leaving home, he tried to forget her without much success. If anything, he often found himself comparing the women he let into his life to her, and every time, they all paled in comparison. The truth of the matter was that he was madly, desperately in love with her. He knew it the day he slept with her six years ago, but it had scared him at the time, so he ran. He had seen her at his father's funeral a few years later only to rediscover the coward he really was, abandoning her for the second time without an explanation.

Now, however, he had the chance to tell her the truth and pray she still wasn't too upset. All he knew for sure was that he was being presented an opportunity, and he couldn't let it pass him by again. He just hoped she felt the same way about him. If she didn't, at least he could finally convince himself that they were never meant to be, and he could pursue other avenues for his future.

Paulie!

The older man popped into sight just outside the study door. He was always waiting close by ensuring he never had to call more than once.

Yes, sir?

He folded the letter up and slipped it into his breast pocket of his vest along with the photo. Pack our things. We catch the first train out of the city tomorrow morning.

The butler bobbed his balding head. May I inquire as to where we will be going, sir?

Home, Paulie, Ashton announced as he pat the parchment in his pocket. We're going home.

A smile lit the old man's face, making him look five years younger. Very good, sir.

2

No, no, no, the ribbons are supposed to go on the chairs and not the trees, Skylar Cranston said as she supervised the Fontaine children and staff decorating the back lawn for Cressida Fontaine's fiftieth birthday.

I wish you'd make up your mind, Gabriel, the youngest Fontaine brother, groaned as he removed the ribbon he just wrapped around a tree.

His tousled reddish-brown hair and stormy-blue eyes painted him as the epitome of a prankster. He always wore a bit of a smile because he was always up for a good laugh. And he always carried his camera around his neck from a worn leather strap wherever he went.

She has, you bonehead, Raylen scolded.

His older sister was very tall and beautiful but a fiercely free spirit. Her strawberry-blond hair seemed to gleam in the sunlight, and her mischievous violet eyes were always sparkling with laughter. She was adventurous to a fault, which normally got her into a lot of trouble, and she was always trying to talk Skylar into doing things she wouldn't normally do.

You just refuse to listen to anyone.

Skylar tried not to laugh as she watched Gabriel childishly stick his tongue out at his sister. Raylen Fontaine was her best friend and part of the loving family that had taken her under their wing when her parents had died several years ago. Their fathers had been friends their entire lives, their lands abutting one another, and the Fontaines happily welcomed Skylar into their home as family just as the Cranstons had done for Raylen when they were children.

Sky, where do you want these?

She turned to face the terrace and saw the older Fontaine boys, Travis and Rourke, carrying large vases of orchids.

Rourke was the eldest of the Fontaine clan and the heir. He had the same toned build as his father and brothers, sharing the same dark hair and features, but his eyes he got from his mother. Aquamarine blue. Skylar always thought she was staring into a stoic sea whenever he met her gaze. He had inherited the cattle farm and estate from his father after he passed away a few years before, and he was a very by-the-book kind of man.

On some levels, Travis, the second eldest Fontaine, shared many of the same qualities Rourke did. He resembled him in many physical ways too, but he was more of a quiet man than his older brother. His vibrant blue eyes were just a shade darker than Rourke's, and Skylar was sure that his intense stare was what made him so dynamic to watch as he delivered his sermon to the villagers every Sunday morning. He was honest and loyal, but who wouldn't want that in a pastor?

She pointed to the chair they had positioned inside the gazebo. From that vantage point, the birthday girl can overlook all the festivities at once. Over there. Flanking your mother's chair like a throne. The band can set up behind her.

This is an insane idea, Raylen said as she joined Skylar. Mother isn't even royalty. Why does she need a throne? And why in God's name does it have to be in the center of the hedge maze?

Skylar rolled her eyes. "Ray, we've already discussed this. It is your mother's special day, and everyone should get to feel like royalty on their special day. Besides, if anyone deserves such grandeur, it is your mother."

Why? Raylen asked. It's just a birthday. It's not like she could even choose the day. Why do we even have to go through all this trouble to celebrate it?

Skylar shook her head with disappointment. Raylen wasn't the most tactful person in the world, and Skylar always thought of her as missing some kind of filter from her mind, resulting in her saying whatever she was thinking at all times. Beneath the surface beat the heart of a most trusted, loyal, and kindhearted person though.

She met her friend's lavender gaze directly. "Shame on you, Raylen Renee Fontaine. This is your mother's day. A day that should be celebrated to the fullest. A day, I might add, that reflects your entire existence."

Raylen flinched at the use of her full name. What are you talking about?

I'm talking about the fact that if your mother wasn't even born, you wouldn't be here either, Skylar readily replied.

She's got a point, Rourke said as he dusted his hands on his pants after releasing the urn and briskly walked down the narrow steps to continue helping.

And a very good one, Cressida announced as she, too, walked through a hedge grove doorway behind the girls.

She was a mirror image of Raylen, just several years older and about an inch taller. Unlike her daughter though, she had vibrant red hair and sky-blue eyes. Honestly, they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter.

She moved to Skylar's side and kissed her cheek. Thank you for clearing things up, darling.

But again, Raylen said when her gaze settled on her mother's, you're not royalty. Why do you need a throne?

"Because she is royalty, Skylar said and then looked to Cressida as if to ask if it was all right to answer on her behalf. May I?"

Cressida smiled. Please continue.

Your mother is the leading matron of this family, ergo, the queen, Skylar explained. "So naturally, she is royalty."

Do you understand now? Cressida asked her daughter who still looked extremely confused.

Oh for God's sake, Ray, Rourke snapped. She has a throne because she wants a throne. It's what she asked for when Skylar asked her what her dream birthday party would be. There's nothing more to it. Stop trying to rationalize it and come help me with this blasted tent.

Raylen grumbled something and followed her older brother toward the pile of beige canvas laying in a heap at the base of the gazebo.

Cressida chuckled and intertwined her arm with Skylar's as she surveyed the decorations and the hard work she put into planning her party. Darling, you've outdone yourself once again. However do you always manage to pull it off?

Skylar eyed her work as well and felt a sense of pride at how nicely everything was coming together. It's all a matter of proper planning. She smiled. Besides, it's fun.

Cressida laughed harder and gestured to her children with one delicate hand. I don't mean the party, Sky. I meant you've outdone yourself getting all of them to work together. I can't even get them to do that to settle arguments.

This time, Skylar laughed and gave her a mischievous smile. That's precisely the fun I was talking about too. It is quite entertaining watching them squirm. Especially since I've reminded them time and again how important a fiftieth birthday is to someone, and they agreed the best gift they could give you would be their cooperation. A twinkle sparkled in her eyes. They're all regretting the day I overheard them say that to one another now.

Cressida let loose a hearty laugh and beamed at her with admiration in her soft blue eyes. I'm glad one of you girls has been paying attention to what I've been teaching you all these years.

Skylar inclined her head. Yes, I've come to realize just how much guilt can be manipulated into motivation.

A yell rang out from inside the tent and both women turned their heads to see all three boys holding Raylen captive inside it, all the while laughing like children.

Then again, perhaps I spoke too soon, Skylar observed, and Cressida continued to laugh.

Begging your pardon, miss, someone said behind them.

Skylar turned to see one of the Fontaine's kitchen maids standing in the doorway that Cressida had walked through. Yes, Melissa, what is it?

The young maid's eyes were wide, making her look younger than Skylar knew her to be. We have a bit of a problem in the kitchen and cook sent me to fetch you immediately.

Skylar sighed and her gaze went back to Cressida's. A planner's work is never done apparently.

Cressida pat her hand when they both looked back to the tent as Raylen shouted again when Gabriel only lifted the canvas high enough to stick his camera underneath and flash a photo of the situation.

Go on. I'll deal with this crisis out here while you deal with the crisis in there.

You're sure?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flurry of movement by the tent but told herself not to react to it. If she did, she'd never get any work done.

Of course, Cressida reassured her. To be totally honest, I think I'm getting a better part of the bargain considering what you are about to experience.

Skylar laughed because the Fontaine cook was a young French chef named Ettiene Montclare, and Mr. Fontaine snatched him up after a trip he took to France. His food was absolutely delicious, but he was a stubborn fool that always tried to have his say by pushing fancy dishes onto the family, stating they needed a culture shock. Skylar was used to having a French cook because she, too, had one at home, and she thought Ettiene's food wasn't half as good as her cook's, Monet Clemensoe's. If anything, she'd love to have the two of them go head-to-head to see who the better chef was but right at this moment wasn't the time. There was still so much to do before the guests started arriving, so she turned on her heel and expertly maneuvered herself out of the garden labyrinth on the heels of the kitchen maid.

About halfway through, she heard a twig snap, and someone curse from a nearby area that she knew to be a dead end. She laughed and wanted to ask if she could possibly help whoever was clearly stuck in the twists and turns of the maze, but Melissa beckoned her forward, distress clear in her eyes.

3

Ashton froze when he heard that musical laugh. Only one person in the world had that lilting laugh that made his heart beat faster when he heard it. It was Skylar for sure. She sounded like she was on the opposite side of the hedge wall. It had been so long since he'd traversed the walkways of the maze in his family's gardens that he didn't even remember which way was the right way anymore. He opened his mouth to call out to Skylar but quickly shut it when he realized he didn't know what to say to her. There was so much he promised himself he'd tell her, but now that the time had come, he didn't even know how to begin.

He heard the fallen leaves crunch beneath her feet as she departed, and he sighed with relief that perhaps he did have a bit more time to dwell on the matter.

You took your time getting here.

He turned to the only opening in the hedge wall behind him because clearly he had found another dead end. Raylen was standing there watching him, her arms laden with tent stakes that she dropped just inside the pathway, out of sight to the winding paths beyond.

Is that any way to greet your favorite brother? he asked as he opened his arms to her.

One light brow arched up as she dusted her hands off on her skirt. Whoever said you were my favorite brother?

Ashton gave her a knowing look but refused to lower his arms to her. I am your twin. I assume that gives me special privileges.

Raylen fisted her hands on her hips. And what if I say you assume too much?

Now Ashton sighed but met her gaze unflinchingly. Then I'd have to call you a liar. Now come give me a hug already.

She smiled at that and moved into his embrace. She couldn't help it.