by Liz Isaacson
Cy had had to do both of those things.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to Patsy. She closed her eyes and nodded, melting back into his embrace. Cy loved holding her like this, and he slipped a little further in love with her. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but now didn’t seem like the right time.
So his imagination took off, and he envisioned the two of them living in his house, with the orchard right outside the front door. Patsy would manage those, and she’d help with the shop too. Cy would work on her father’s house and help out with the horses, as well as do what he wanted to do in the shop.
It was a perfect life, the two of them, beneath the apple trees and the scent of grease not far away. He sighed and closed his eyes, wishing life could be so simple and so serene.
After several minutes, Patsy had composed herself. She pulled away from him and looked him straight in the eye. “You can run this shop, Cy,” she said. “You’re smart, and capable, and no one is more passionate about what they do than you.”
He nodded, fierce appreciation filling him. “Thank you, Patsy. So…do you think I should hire someone or not?”
“Up to you,” she said. “But you can do this.”
Cy suddenly had a whole lot more to think about. He took Patsy’s face in his hands and leaned in closer to her. “I sure do like you, Patsy Foxhill,” he whispered. “The day I met you, my whole life changed.” He kissed her then, because that was as forthcoming about his feelings as he was willing to be right now.
She kissed him back like she liked him too, and that the day she’d met him, her life had changed…for the better.
“No, no, no,” Cy said, leaping from the barstool and toward the dog he’d brought home a couple of days ago. He clapped loudly, startling the downy soft pit bull mix. He scooped her up while she was still leaking all over the floor and took her to the back door.
“You ring the bell to go out,” he said, nudging her nose against the bell there. “Potty. Potty.” He slid open the door and dumped Blue Velvet onto the deck. “You go potty outside.”
He slid the door closed and faced the puddles on the floor. “Shouldn’t have gotten an untrained dog,” he muttered to himself. “Why didn’t You warn me?” He walked over to the sink and bent to get out the cleaning wipes. “I thought getting a dog was a good idea. You never led me to believe it wasn’t.” He continued to vent his frustrations to the Lord as he cleaned up.
“At least it wasn’t on the carpet,” he said. “So thank You for that.” He returned to the back door and let Blue Velvet back in. “Sorry, girl.” He picked her up and let her lick his face. “But you really have to go outside.”
He looked back to his bowl of cereal, now soggy. “We’re going up to the lodge, and you’ll need these.” He unlooped the bells from the handle on the door and tucked them in his pocket. “I’ll bring them with us, okay?”
He gathered up a bag of beef treats, a leash, and a little sweater for the pup. “Patsy wants to see you in the sweater she bought you. She loves sweaters, Blue, so no complaining.” The dog didn’t complain at all. She was more like a sack of potatoes and he had to manhandle her to get her front legs into the sweater.
After tugging it down over her back and chest, he stood and looked at her. “It’s cute,” he told her. “It’s got a big purple heart on it. Patsy’s going to love you in it.” He clipped the leash to Blue’s collar, and she didn’t like that. But she had to learn to walk on the leash, and no one but Cy was going to teach her.
By the time he’d gone around the block twice, he was sweating under the hat, gloves, and coat. Wyoming was still plenty cold, but he could see the piles of snow on the sides of the road getting a little smaller day by day.
“Come on,” he said to the dog. “We’re going to the lodge. Get in the truck.”
She did, her tongue hanging out of her mouth. The cold didn’t seem to touch her, but his sweat was cooling now, and the chill infected Cy and went right down deep into his bone marrow. He shivered as he got behind the wheel, and he got the heater blowing and his seat heater warming.
He’d met with Bree several times when he’d first started at the lodge, and he’d learned that she usually did a bunch of stuff in the morning. But Cy had worked out a different system. He didn’t go up to the lodge until breakfast was in full swing, and he made a live presentation of that day’s events. He got everything organized and ready the night before, and he sent the morning reminder texts on a scheduler so he could enjoy a later start to the day.
Patsy said she didn’t care what he did, as long as the job got done and the guests were happy. No one had complained yet, so Cy’s system was working for him.
His stomach flipped as he turned to go up the canyon, because while he’d been at the lodge for a couple of months now, he still wasn’t sure what the day would bring. He hadn’t worked a real job in…well, Cy didn’t think he ever had. He’d grown up working on the farm, and while his father was a taskmaster, he didn’t have to report to work in a uniform, wear a silly hat, or beg for time off.
He hadn’t gone to college after high school, but he’d taken a few mechanic classes and earned a welding certificate. He’d traveled to a high-end motorcycle shop on the East Coast and studied what they did. He’d shadowed the owner and asked him questions. When he’d met his first veteran, Cy knew exactly what he was supposed to do with his life.
And he’d been trying to do it ever since.
His phone rang as he pulled into the parking lot at Whiskey Mountain Lodge, and he really didn’t have time for a call. But it was McCall, and Cy really did need to talk to him.
“Hey,” he said to the other man after connecting the call. “What’s up?”
“What’s up?” McCall asked. “Dude, you said it would be warmer by the time we had to come to Wyoming.”
“It is warmer,” Cy said with a smile. He reached for the leash and tried clipping it to Blue Velvet’s collar, but she dodged him.
“I don’t know about this,” McCall said. “It’s freezing here. What am I supposed to tell Julie?”
“She didn’t come with you?”
“They’re not making the move until April,” McCall said. “I just showed up to meet the realtor, and Cy, it’s freezing here.”
Cy chuckled, but he couldn’t argue. “Let’s meet for dinner. I can show you the building, and we’ll get everything in line for this weekend.” He looked at the lodge as he spoke. He couldn’t believe he’d only be here for a few more days.
“Oh, you’re definitely buying me dinner,” McCall said. “Maybe for a year.”
Cy laughed fully then, glad when McCall did too. But the man was a born and bred Californian, and he probably was seriously doubting his decision to move to Wyoming to run Cy’s mechanic shop.
“Come on,” he said to Blue Velvet, and he slid from the truck, turning back to get her leashed. Before he could, she jumped out behind him and took off for the lodge. “You have got to be kidding me,” he grumbled under his breath.
He left the bells behind and barely thought to close his door before he went after the pit bull. She was a sweet thing, but she had absolutely no manners whatsoever. He’d brought her to the lodge before though, and she knew better than to jump out of the truck uninvited.
“Blue,” he called, his chest collapsing when the double-wide front doors opened. A couple came out, and Blue Velvet put her front paws up on the gentleman.
Cy watched in horror as the man shoved Blue away, and then tried to shield his wife from the thirty-pound dog as if Blue was a monster. “Hey,” he called. “Come on, Blue.”
The pit bull didn’t come, and Cy’s frustration morphed into anger when the man looked up, disdain on his face. “You should have a leash on your dog.”
“I’m aware,” Cy said, holding it up and still crossing the parking lot. “She just got away from me.”
The woman screamed as Blue sniffed her feet, and the man kicked at her.
“Hey,” Cy said, fi
nally arriving. “That’s not necessary. She was literally just sniffing.” He grabbed Blue by the collar and clipped the leash to her, his stomach bubbling.
He straightened and faced the couple, fire licking through his chest. Something awakened in him, and he actually felt superhuman. “You didn’t need to kick her.”
“I’ll do whatever I have to,” the man said.
Cy advanced on him, and the man and his wife pressed into the closed door. “I was right here. She wasn’t going to hurt you. She’s a rescue dog, and she just needs to be trained up a little. The last thing I need is someone like you making her life worse.” He glowered down at them, his head so hot.
“Someone like me?” Though the gentleman looked afraid, he wasn’t going to back down.
Cy rolled his eyes and kept Blue Velvet right as his side. “It looked like y’all were leaving. Have a good day.” He stepped to the side and gestured for them to go.
They both glared at him as they passed, and he sighed as he turned back to the door. It opened before he could reach for the handle, and Patsy stood there.
She wore a frown and a glare, and she said, “My office, Cy. Right now.” She glanced down at Blue Velvet, who was wearing the sweater she’d bought for her. She loved the dog, and Cy had enjoyed going with her to pick her out a week or so ago.
“You can come too, Blue,” she said, turning on her heel and marching back into the lodge.
Chapter Sixteen
Patsy shook her head, and Cy stopped talking. “I don’t care what he did or said, Cy. You can’t treat guests like that.” He was quitting in four days anyway.
He nodded, his lips pressed together. “I’m sorry. I let the beast come out.”
Patsy smoothed down her own sweater and looked at Blue Velvet. “You didn’t help either, little miss,” she said to the dog, who took a couple of slow steps toward her, her head down. Patsy had chewed Cy out for the way he’d treated Mr. and Mrs. Jameson, some of their best customers.
She reached down to pat Blue. “What an adorable sweater you have on.” She grinned at the dog, and then looked up at Cy. He still wore an echo of the beast she’d seen on the security cameras on his face, and Patsy hated that she’d had to discipline him.
Tension rode in the air between them, and she wished she could wave a magic wand and make it all disappear. “Are you on schedule for this weekend?” she finally asked.
“Yes,” he said, his voice tight and clipped.
Patsy nodded, because she was used to having everything tight and clipped in her life. “Good.” She sat down at her desk, enjoying the way Blue Velvet curled in a circle and then finally lay against her feet. A smile ran through her soul, but when she looked down at her desk, she realized what she’d been in the middle of.
Going through her father’s books. She and her siblings were meeting next weekend, the one after all of Cy’s employees started filling his shop with helmets, parts, potted plants, and family pictures.
“I’m sorry,” Cy said again. “Can I go?”
“Yes,” Patsy said. She hadn’t realized he was waiting for her to release him. “Sorry, I thought it was clear we were done.”
Cy sighed and sat in the chair across from her. “Are you sure you don’t want to come work at the shop?”
“Not getting any good applicants?”
“I’ve had three,” he said. “One was a woman named Bunny.”
Patsy smiled, but she wouldn’t laugh. “Hey, she didn’t name herself,” Patsy said, quirking her eyebrow. “Right? I mean, look at me.”
“Good point,” Cy said with another very big sigh. “I guess I’ll call her. I just know I’m going to be a beast at the shop without you there.” He gave her a hopeful look, but Patsy just shook her head.
“Nice try, buddy.”
Cy finally smiled, the last of his beastly persona slipping away. “I’m going to miss it up here.”
“We’ll miss you too,” she said, flipping a page in the ledger. “I know McCall is supposed to be here today, and if he makes it—”
“He made it,” Cy said. “I just talked to him.”
“Oh, okay, great,” Patsy said, her voice pitching up. “Maybe we could go over these tomorrow?”
“Let’s do it next week,” he said. “Right before your meeting. You can deliver it to me the way you would them, and I’ll give you feedback.”
“Okay,” she said, looking back at the ledger. “I just…don’t feel confident.”
“Hey, remember what you said to me last week?”
She looked up, trying to remember.
“You said I was smart, and no one had the passion for my shop that I do. Anyone could—and would—say the same about you and that orchard.” He leaned forward and put one palm against the book. “You don’t even need the ledger, Pats. You don’t.”
She nodded, though she felt like her whole life had been anchored to the ledger and what it showed. “Thank you, Cy.”
He grinned at her, and the softness that lent to his features made her pulse behave erratically. He really was an amazing person, and Patsy felt lucky to know him.
His phone rang, and he looked at it. “Oh, holy cow.” He fumbled it, and the device fell to the floor. “No, no,” he moaned.
“Who is it?” Patsy asked, rising to her feet. Cy picked up his phone and stood too. “It’s Wyatt Walker.”
“No.” Patsy sucked in a breath and pressed it to her heartbeat. “Answer it, Cy.”
“Right.” He flipped the phone over and swiped. “Hey,” he said, his voice smooth and casual. “Wyatt Walker, the rodeo king.” He chuckled, his face full of pure joy now.
It was torture to listen to only half the conversation, mostly because all Cy said was, “Yes, that’s right…it’s on April second.”
Then, “Yes, it’s a weekend. It’s beautiful up here. I’m sure we can find a place for you to stay.”
And “We’d love to have your wife and family join us.” He paced in the office, his eyes on the pictures and then her as he went back and forth. “Yeah, of course I can pay for it…oh, you don’t need to do that.”
He thrust his free hand into the air, his fist raised in triumph. “Sorry, Wyatt, I only make motorcycles for veterans…yes, that includes rodeo kings.” He laughed then, and the conversation finished up quickly.
“Ho-ly cow.” Cy sighed and sank into the chair he’d been sitting in when Wyatt had called. “He’s coming, Patsy. He’s coming to the grand reopening, and he’s bringing his family.”
“That’s amazing.” Patsy squealed and rounded the desk to give Cy a hug. “It’s going to be huge, Cy.” She sat in his lap and hugged her arms around his neck.
“I need to start praying for good weather,” Cy said, a panicked look in his eyes as he settled his hands on her waist. “Will you pray for me?”
“Of course,” she said, her eyes drifting closed as she leaned down to kiss him. She didn’t let him kiss her for too long, and when she pulled back, she rested her forehead against his. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Don’t be going there,” he whispered back. “I have to get everyone here, and get the entire shop loaded in less than three weeks.”
“You can do it,” she said. “I can come help with anything, Cy. Really.”
He nodded, and Patsy slid off his lap to return to her desk. She sat, her heartbeat still elevated. She wasn’t even sure what she’d been working on before she’d gone to get Cy from the front porch as he’d towered over the Jamesons.
He stood up and said, “Well, I’m late for my announcements. Can I use the PA?”
“Sure,” she said. “You know how it works.”
“Me and you and lunch at your cabin?” he asked from the doorway, and Patsy looked up at him again. So handsome, and so eager to spend time with her. Cy Hammond was practically perfect in every way, and she smiled and nodded
He left, and she sagged against her chair. No, Cy was not perfect, and she knew it. He let his temper run away with him som
etimes, and he claimed to have some mental issues. She’d seen him be moody and depressed, but it didn’t seem to affect him the way she’d seen it affect others. He still got up every day. He still came to work. He did have some anxiety, especially surrounding his shop, but she supposed that was normal for someone doing what he’d done. He’d moved his shop halfway across the country, to a new state where he knew no one.
He’d hired dozens of people to work for him, and he’d taken his concept for a motorcycle shop and showroom from his head and delivered it to someone who could build it. He’d booked Wyatt Walker to come to his grand reopening—and every cowboy in the state of Wyoming knew who Wyatt Walker was. Heck, even Patsy knew who the famous rodeo star was. One evening when she sat with her father, she’d bought one of his signature hats from a shopping channel for one of her boyfriends a couple of years ago.
Even if Cy did have some depression and anxiety, he was still about a thousand times more of a man than anyone else she’d dated.
She liked that he had a nickname for her, and she liked that he was protective of his rescue dog. She liked that he saw his brothers often, and that he also carved time out for the two of them. There was so much to like about Cy Hammond, in fact, that Patsy knew she was well on her way to being more in love with him than just liking him.
She pushed the thoughts out of her mind and looked at the ledger again. With a slap, she closed it, because she was at work, and this had nothing to do with Whiskey Mountain Lodge. She could deal with her family later.
She also needed to figure out how to deal with her feelings for Cy, too.
Later, she told herself sternly. Right now, she needed to put in another order for hay for the horses. Summer couldn’t come fast enough.
Patsy took the steps to the cabin’s front door two at a time and burst through the door. “Sophia,” she called. “We’re going to be late.”
And they couldn’t be late. Patsy should’ve been down at the grand reopening already, but there had been an emergency with one of the guests. A literal emergency, where the paramedics had been called and everything.