by Lexi Post
“Hey, Mac. Don’t you want a ride?” He pointed to the golf cart.
“No.” And with that she disappeared over the edge.
Shrugging, he turned toward the cart just as the sun’s rays burst over the desert floor, lighting up the landscape and throwing saguaro and mesquite shadows everywhere.
“Shit.” He jumped into the golf cart. Jorge would be showing up for work any time now.
He sped down the hairpin dirt road toward the bridge that crossed the small creek, the only part left of the raging river that had once formed the ravine. Once across it, he headed up the other side. He was almost to the top when his phone rang.
“Putos pendejos! Manténganse fuera de mi cocina. ¿Qué demonios se supone que debo hacer ahora?”
Pulling the phone from against his ear, he cringed. Selma wasn’t happy and if that was the case, that could mean unhappy guests. Without even glancing at the barn, he turned toward the main building. The last thing they needed during high season was an unhappy cook.
Jumping from the cart, he strode to the large double glass doors and yanked one open. His boot heels on the tile floor were loud in the silence of the lobby. As he turned into the dining room, loud swearing came from the kitchen, so he took the most direct line between the tables to push open the batwing doors of Selma’s domain.
The woman was still yelling into her phone, her other arm waving as she stood in front of the industrial fridge.
“Selma!”
At his voice, the cook pulled the phone from her ear and looked at it.
“Selma, I’m here. What’s the problem?”
She whipped her head around to scowl at him. “Algún idiota tomó mi crema. No puedo—”
“Stop, stop. English por favor. My Spanish isn’t that good.”
“Someone took my cream!” She pointed at the open refrigerator. “I can’t make my cinnamon French toast without it. Dios mio, what the fuck do I have to do to keep people out of my kitchen at night? Padlock my refrigerators? Que chupe mi concha.”
Since her voice rose to a squealing pitch at the end of her question, he didn’t think it prudent to point out that Kendra actually owned the appliances. “Let me see what I can do.” He used his most calm voice. “You start on whatever you were going to serve with the French toast and I will find your cream. How much will you need?”
Luckily, she’d always had a soft spot for him, though why, he didn’t know. At his questions, she started to figure in her head. Finally, she nodded. “Sixteen cups.”
He swallowed. A gallon of cream? No wonder her French toast was so good. “And were you serving anything with it?”
Her hands found her hips as she shook her head at him. “Of course. Sausage, bacon, Southwestern scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, warm syrup, and orange juice.”
Hell, his mouth watered at the list. “You get started on the other items and I’ll get you that cream.”
She stared at him for a moment, obviously trying to decide if he would deliver. Finally, she nodded once, then started pulling ingredients from the refrigerator.
Quickly, he exited Selma’s domain and headed for the front lobby, pulling his phone from his pocket as he did so. Who the hell would take a gallon of cream? Dialing, he glanced at the clock behind the reception desk. “Shit.” Jorge had probably already discovered Mrs. Lowe in his office. Maybe he’d catch a break and Crystal would get to work first.
Striding toward the large glass doors, he paused as the call connected.
“Good morning, Wade.” From the sound of Lacey’s cheerful voice, she was in her car.
“I need you to pick up a gallon of cream.” That was a bit abrupt.
“I just drove out of town.” The cheerfulness was gone.
He pushed open the doors and headed for his golf cart. “It’s a Selma emergency or I wouldn’t be calling.”
“Oh, my. No problem. I’ll turn around. Is it for breakfast?”
“Yeah.” He sat in the cart and turned the key.
“Wait, I just ordered a gallon of cream. It should be in the refrigerator. Didn’t she find it?”
He sighed. “She did, but someone took it.”
“Well, sugar. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
“Thanks.” He ended the call and started the cart in motion. If his phone rang one more time, he’d simply chuck it into the ravine. As he crested the small hill to the other side of the split resort, his heart sank. There were two golf carts parked outside the stable manager’s office.
No use worrying about what might have happened. He’d just have to clean up whatever mess there was before Kendra came into work. Slowing the cart, he brought it to a stop and got out.
Expecting the worst, he forced himself to open the door with a smile. He lost his smile at the emptiness of the room. “Hello?” He looked at the now empty couch, the sheets and blankets folded and piled on one side. Mrs. Lowe’s suitcase sat next to it, so she must still be around somewhere.
At the sound of the toilet flushing down the hall, he relaxed. She must be in the bathroom. Maybe Jorge and Crystal went straight to the barn to feed the horses. He leaned his ass against the desk and waited.
Within minutes, the sound of footsteps that sounded like cowboy boots came down the short hall and Crystal Henderson appeared. She’d been recruited by Hunter, an old friend who needed a second chance. She was their relatively new stable hand and when she saw him her light brown eyes widened. “Good morning, Wade. Were you looking for your future mother-in-law?” She smiled as she pushed her shoulder-length, golden blonde hair back into a ponytail and pulled it through a hair tie.
“Yes, I was. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”
She laughed. “Oh, don’t be. By time I got here, those two were already best friends and heading out.”
“Out? What two?” He was obviously missing something.
“Jorge and Donna. Not that she paid me much attention when the boss introduced me. They went out for a ride. Jorge had brought in some churros he’d conned Selma into giving him last night so we could have a treat this morning, but I’m obviously not getting any. He said Donna could have some at the first crest of the trail when she’d be able to look back and see what a beautiful place her daughter had built.”
For some reason the scene that came to mind didn’t please him as much as it should. Wasn’t that exactly what he’d planned to suggest?
Crystal walked past him and picked up a straw cowboy hat from the desk. “What are you scowling for?”
Scowling? He shook his head. “I’m not sure I’m completely on board with Mrs. Lowe alone with Jorge.” At least, not now.
Crystal waved his concern away with a flick of her hand. “Oh, don’t worry about them. Jorge may be a charmer, but he totally respects women. Don’t forget, he has a daughter. Donna is probably safer with him than she wants to be.”
“What?”
She laughed. “Oh, you should have seen that woman checking out his butt when he bent over to pick up the brush she dropped. I’d swear she did it on purpose if she hadn’t been so surprised when he got it for her.” Crystal grinned as she headed for the door. “Honestly, I hope I’m just like her when I get to be her age.” With that final statement, she walked out, leaving him in the silence of the large room.
This could be more of a mess than he anticipated.
The door opened again and Crystal popped her head in. “I almost forgot. Donna said her dogs will need to go out this morning.”
He opened his mouth, but the door closed. Dogs? What dogs? Kendra didn’t mention any dogs. Or did her mom mean it as an old-fashioned expression for someone’s feet. He’d heard his grandmother complain her dogs were tired when she’d been shopping with his mother. And Mrs. Lowe had driven in her car for days so she probably meant she needed to get off her butt. Crystal had probably never heard the expression.
Catching the time on the clock on the wall, he quickly left the office. It had been his office when he’d first come to
work for Poker Flat Nudist Resort, but now he and Kendra shared hers, just like they shared her house and soon their lives.
He jumped into the golf cart, but didn’t speed as he made his way over to the main building. Guests and employees would be about now and he had to set an example.
That he wasn’t completely comfortable with the fact he wasn’t bringing much to the marriage besides himself, his family and his bank account weighed on his mind. Then again, Kendra did prefer to be in control.
He couldn’t help grinning at the thought of how he’d started his day. Maybe he could find something else he could control for her. After all, she did appear to enjoy giving up control once in a while.
Parking his golf cart next to the others now parked in front of the building, he hoped Mac had given Lacey a ride down in time to get Selma her cream. Part of him was hesitant to find out, but he’d never been one to back away from an unpleasant situation. Striding through the large glass doors, he approached the front desk where Lacey was talking with a guest. She had on a pale green collared shirt and blue jean with her straw cowboy hat. The guests loved her.
Relieved she’d made it in time for breakfast, or maybe a slightly delayed breakfast, he waited patiently, watching out the window as two couples conversed. He didn’t even notice anymore that they wore no clothes. Only when there was a particular tattoo or piercing did he take a second look.
“Catastrophe averted.” Lacey’s triumphant announcement had him turning back toward the front desk.
He stepped up to it and returned her smile. “Thank you.”
She shook her head, her blonde braid falling off her shoulder. “Who would steal a gallon of cream? I mean I could see Whisper taking it to give a mountain lion a treat, but since she hasn’t been here in a few weeks, I’m stumped.”
He’d met Whisper, the animal whisperer, a few times and couldn’t say he was completely comfortable around her. That she would give a gallon of cream to a mountain lion didn’t surprise him. The last thing they needed to do was encourage the cat that Hunter and Adriana had encountered on the trails. “I doubt anyone here would be friendly with a wild animal like that. Maybe one of the guests decided to cook in their casita and needed a cup. I can see a person coming up at night and borrowing it.”
Lacey chuckled. “I hope they don’t bring it back at night or Selma will think she’s going loco.”
He grimaced. “I don’t even want to imagine that scenario.”
“At the moment, Selma is in her happy place again.”
He smirked. “You mean, she’s cooking and grumbling?”
Lacey nodded. “Exactly, and I’m happy I was able to help with that.”
“Speaking of helping…” He looked around to make sure no one was listening and leaned over the counter. “Kendra and I need your help.”
“Of course. I think I’ve covered everything for the wedding, but if there’s something I forgot, you better tell me now.”
That Lacey had taken on the role of wedding planner had been a load off Kendra’s shoulders and about the only way he could get his fiancée to agree to a date. He had a big bonus scheduled for Lacey in addition to the added weekly pay. “It’s nothing you forgot. It’s an unexpected occurrence. Mrs. Lowe arrived here last night.”
Lacey froze. “What? No, she can’t. We have no rooms available.”
He used her own word. “Exactly. We had to put her on the couch in Jorge’s office.”
“No.” Lacey shook her head vigorously. “That won’t do at all.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. Can you work some magic and get her into a guest casita tonight? Preferably on the edge, away from the rest of the guests?” He looked around again to make sure they were alone. “We don’t think she’ll be very diplomatic if she meets a nudist.”
He was halfway through his explanation when Lacey’s fingers hit the keyboard. Her blonde brows lowered as she scanned the screen, which didn’t bode well. Finally, after a good ten minutes, she finally sat back and sighed. “There’s just no way to free up a guest casita.”
Not what he was hoping to hear. “Not even a set of friends who could bunk together for a reduced price?”
She shook her head. “Every casita already has at least four in it and two have five. Remember, we actually bought two cots for those.”
He did remember. At the time Kendra was thrilled to invest in a couple of cots to make more guests happy. “So that means we don’t have any extra beds around I could move into our house?”
“Not unless you pulled one from the staff casitas, but those with two beds are being used. Oh.” Lacey’s eyes became shrewd. “We might be able to get two staff to bunk together temporarily until Mrs. Lowe leaves.”
He swallowed the urge to tell her Mrs. Lowe wouldn’t be leaving. They needed to take this one step at a time. “Do we have any possibilities?” Off the top of his head, he couldn’t remember who was in what casita or how many beds he or she had. “It would have to be a female staff member.”
Lacey rolled her eyes. “Of course.” She paused. “Either that or Chris.”
Chris was their masseuse. He also happened to be gay, which made the ladies very comfortable around him. But how would Mrs. Lowe feel about living with him. “Better stick to the female staff.”
Lacey frowned, but nodded, clearly not happy with what that might mean. Her fingers hit a button and she perused the screen. Suddenly, she glanced at him. “Uh, this is going to take some time and I believe you have a dance class in five minutes. You did pick up Natasha at the garage already, right?”
Well, shit. This had to be the longest morning of his life. “I was just on my way to do that.”
Lacey grinned. “I’m just messing with you. She called me about ten minutes ago and I sent Hunter to get her, but you better get over to the Saloon and open it up. You know she doesn’t like it when you’re late.
His relief was complete. “Have we given you a raise recently?”
She laughed. “Yes, but I’m always happy to take another one. Now go before you’re late.”
He tipped his hat at her and headed out the lobby doors. He was never late, but for some reason, this morning was getting the better of him. Jumping into the golf cart once again, he glanced over at the opposite side of the ravine. There was no cart in sight, which meant they could well be coming up the main road to the fork right now.
Careful not to speed, he kept one eye on the path and the other on the crest of the dirt road toward the barn and Old West town. Once he’d passed the fork, he relaxed until the Old West town came into view again and revealed a golf cart parked and two people standing outside the saloon.
The saloon wasn’t finished yet. It had a large bar at one end, but other than that it was just a big empty room with a wooden floor, which was great for the line dance lessons he was having his groomsmen take with him. He planned to surprise his new bride at the reception. Hunter stood on the wooden boardwalk in all black as usual with the dance instructor, Natasha Korbas, a thin woman about their age who always carried a large shoulder bag.
Why didn’t Hunter unlock the rolling barn door Kendra had insisted on adding in front of the typical saloon doors in order to keep the critters out? Pulling to a stop, he stepped out, an apology on his lips when the sound of barking stopped him. “What’s that?”
Hunter, an Army veteran and now Poker Flat security guard, pointed. “That would be dogs.”
“As in more than one?” He stepped onto the shaded boardwalk of the newly constructed town.
“Two.” Hunter held up two fingers, his mouth quirking up at one corner.
“Sounds like at least a dozen.” Still, not sure why his security guard hadn’t unlocked the padlock, he inserted his key and pulled down on it before opening the latch. Then he gave the door a shove on its rollers.
As two dogs raced past him and out into the dirt, the smell of shit assailed him. Now he understood Mrs. Lowe’s message to Crystal. “Well, fuck.”
Hunter brushed by him on his way down the boardwalk steps. “No, that would be shit.”
He turned to watch him. “Where are you going?”
“I’m volunteering to catch the dogs. You can have clean up duty.”
By rights, he was the boss and should tell Hunter to clean it up, but this was his fault. If he wasn’t so confident in Hunter’s capabilities to catch the two little mutts, he might be worried, as well as guilty. Luckily, guilt was all he had to feel.
He glanced at Natasha who looked at him, sympathy in her hazel eyes. “I’ll just go over and find out what’s for breakfast. I’m thinking there won’t be a line dance class today, but I’ll be back for your lesson with Kendra.” She turned her head away as the scent of dog poop wafted outside. “That is, if you still want to practice.”
“Yes. By then, the place should be aired out.”
Natasha nodded and stepped off the boardwalk, her cowboy boots making a beeline for the main building and away from the mess before him.
Bracing himself, he pushed open the doors and grimaced.
Chapter Four
Wednesday night.
Kendra stopped in front of Crystal’s dark casita. Her stable hand had agreed to share Mac’s casita until after the wedding so her mom would have a place to stay. When she’d heard the news, she’d felt as if a boulder had lifted from her shoulders. Lacey was worth her weight in gold.
But now, after hearing her mother sing Jorge’s praises for two hours at dinner, she wasn’t so sure she shouldn’t just put her mother up in a hotel away from the resort. Even as the idea blossomed, it shriveled and died. Jorge and her mom were grown adults with their own cars. It wasn’t as if she was dealing with teenagers.
Then again, the way her mother had gushed non-stop made it feel like she was with a teenager.
“Well, do I get to see my new digs or are we going to just sit here and enjoy the view of the outside?”
She shrugged. “Don’t you like the outside?”
“Don’t be a wiseass.” Her mother swung her legs out, grabbed the side bar at the front of the cart and pulled herself out. “I need to unpack and settle in. I hope the amazon brought all my bags down.”