by Alison Kent
The girl considered the horse again before turning back to Deck with a somber nod. He swung her into the saddle. Fear flickered across her face, but Deck placed her hands on the pommel and reassured her as he fitted her feet into the stirrups.
As Deck led Daisy in a slow circle, the little girl gradually relaxed until she was smiling. “This is fun,” she called to her parents, who grinned with relief.
The ranch hand leading the ride started off and the guests fell into line behind him. Deck noticed Callie and came over. “Hey,” he said, his eyes soft. “You get your sleep?”
“More or less.” She flashed on being in his arms.
“Can I have a bite?” He nodded at the roll. “Cooky makes them with extra caramel when you’re here.”
“That’s nice of him.” She extended the roll and watched him bite into it. His tongue flicked out for a bit of frosting. The man turned eating into a sex act.
She handed over her coffee mug and he took a sip. Handing it back, his face got serious. “Listen, about last night…” He was going to point out that it was a one-time deal they should just forget about.
No way was she letting him say it first. “Forget last night. We were under the influence. Hot springs…champagne…old times. We didn’t stand a chance.”
“Right. Good.” Clouds crossed his face again. Or maybe it was the shadow of his hat. She couldn’t read him at all now.
“You were sweet with that little girl,” she said, changing the subject fast, before he could notice how upset she was. “Do you like working with the guests?”
“When I have time. The ranch keeps me busy. At least until now.” He hesitated, looked at the ground, then back at her. “I’ll stay until you get squared away, Callie. After that, I’ll be gone.”
“I see.” Why did she feel slapped? There was a spark of something in his eye—disapproval, exasperation, irritation. Tension sprang between them again as if they’d never been in each other’s warm, wet arms. “Up to you, Deck. You seen my dad?”
“They headed off to Tucson. Some Native American herb show. He said to tell you he’ll be back this afternoon.”
“Thanks.” She wanted him here for the contractor visit.
“I’d better get back to it,” Deck said. He turned away abruptly, shoving his hat harder onto his head.
She felt dismissed. What had she expected him to say? He was mad about her and had to have more? What was the point of that?
The morning went downhill from there.
First she saw that the casitas were in worse shape than she’d expected. The three adobe ones, historic though they were, would have to go. They smelled like mud and Rosita gave her an earful about how hard they were to clean.
Then the contractor called to cancel. He was too busy for another job. Worst of all, when she called to verify the second builder’s visit, his secretary said he didn’t have it on his calendar and was swamped until next summer, anyway.
Now what? Swallowing her frustration, she decided she’d track down another contractor and keep moving. A little glitch. It was only the first day, after all.
Her stomach was rumbling, so she headed into town for lunch and to pick up the mail. As she drove down Main, she noticed that Taylor’s new strip of offices had a few vacancies. She hoped that wasn’t a problem for him.
She parked in the older part of downtown, grabbed the mail—the post office was at the back of a gift shop—then headed into Ruby’s Diner. The smells—lemon meringue, hamburger grease, milkshakes and coffee—brought back happy memories of hanging with her friends. Until her mom died, life had seemed effortless to her. She’d had no idea how bad things could get. Fighting the twist in her chest, Callie moved forward. She always did.
“Well, if it isn’t my girl.” Taylor Loft stepped away from the counter and grinned his old grin. He looked good in the crisp uniform and he’d stayed fit. His eyes seemed a little different, kind of wounded, a little wary. That came from working with criminals, no doubt, or maybe a painful divorce—Julie had been the one to leave, she knew.
“Hello, Taylor,” she said, accepting his hug. He held her just a few seconds too long. She hoped he had a girlfriend because she hadn’t felt a twinge of interest in him on any return visit. If he got flirty…ish. The truth was she doubted she’d ever been truly attracted to him. They’d been friends, had friends in common, and he’d been wild about her. That had been enough at the time.
“You haven’t changed a bit, has she, Ruby?” Taylor said.
“Hell, Taylor, she’s here every few months. What’s to change?” Callie liked Ruby’s sadder-but-wiser kindness with a twist of sarcasm. She was a straight shooter and a good friend to all. “Sit anywhere, Callie. I’ll be right with you.”
“You care for company?” Taylor asked.
“Sure.” She slid into a booth and he sat across from her. “Your office building looks good,” she said to steer the conversation away from personal questions.
“Development’s a good fit for me. I take after my great-great-granddad that way. Abrazo has to grow or die, I believe.”
“What can I get you?” Ruby said, giving Callie an eye roll over Taylor’s big talk. He was trying to impress her. In high school, he’d been humble about his popularity and football success and leaned on her for praise.
She ordered a salad and a diet Coke.
“You have time for a meal, Chief Loft, or is the call of crime too strong?” Ruby’s sarcasm nearly dripped onto the table.
“I’ll have the strip steak rare, no sides. And coffee. From a fresh pot, not the usual mud.” He winked at Ruby.
“Got it,” she said. “Don’t let him shovel it too deep, Callie, or I’ll never get the place mopped out.”
When Ruby was gone, Taylor shook his head. “That woman can sure dish it out.”
Callie liked that he’d let Ruby’s insults slide off his back. He’d grown past his high school insecurity.
“God, it’s good to see you,” he said with a boyish grin. “You look great, like I said.”
“Thanks. You, too.”
“I work at it.” He patted his belly. “Gotta make an effort when you’re single.” Hurt flashed in his face, then flew away.
“I was so sorry to hear about you and Julie.”
“Don’t be. Starter marriage. No biggie. When I got back from the army, we were both lonely. At least we didn’t have kids, so no one got hurt.” Except him, she could see plainly on his face. Her heart went out to him.
“You still with that guy your dad mentioned to me? Steven?”
“Stefan. Yeah,” she said, cringing at the fib. They were still partners, if not lovers.
“So how’s that going?” He sounded way too hopeful.
“Ups and downs. You know.” Faking a boyfriend would be the best way to save Taylor’s ego, she figured.
Their order arrived and they dug in.
“So, Cal says you’ve got plans for the ranch,” Taylor said after a bit.
“I do. Yes.” She told him a brief version of her plan.
“That’s ambitious,” he said. “Take it from me, construction gets more complicated than you expect. I learned the hard way. You get a loan?” He sounded kind, not nosy.
“I have investors, yes,” she said.
“Think they’d be interested in opportunities around here?”
“They’re mostly East Coast. Vacation properties.”
“You never know.” He paused. “So when do you start work?”
“Not sure at the moment, to tell you the truth. I need a builder. I lost the two contractors I had leads on.”
“Yeah?” He put down his fork and grinned. “I just might have the solution to your problem. My guy. Garrett Templeton. He built my complex. He’s out of Albuquerque. New around here.”
“Do you think he would be available?”
“For a friend of mine? Of course.”
“If I could have his number, that would be great.”
“I’ll d
o you one better.” He fished a BlackBerry from his front pocket and began clicking buttons.
“You don’t have to do this now.”
“Now’s when you need the help.” He patted her hand. “I’m here for you, Callie. Besides, he needs local referrals.”
“I really appreciate this.”
In seconds, he had the guy on the phone and filled him in, winking at her while he gave directions to the Triple C. “He’ll be out first thing in the morning.” He slid the BlackBerry into his shirt pocket, then gave it a triumphant pat.
“He did a good job for you? On time? Reasonable bid?”
“Yeah, yeah. He’s great.”
“Thanks so much, Taylor. I really, really appreciate this.”
“I can fast-track your permits, too. I know people.”
“That would be great.”
He tilted his head and his gaze went soft. “We had some good times, huh?”
“That was so long ago.” Enough dredging up the past.
“What’s changed?” Taylor shrugged. “Life’s high school. People on top stay up. People on the bottom stay down. You and I were always on top. And now you’re back.”
“Just for the renovation. A few months.”
“I should take you to dinner in Tucson one of these nights. We can catch up, talk about old times.”
“Once I get a handle on the job, sure,” she said. She could hardly say no after the help he’d been. She had Stefan for protection, at least. “I’m swamped right now.”
“Even big-shot resort developers have to eat sometime. We can do wine, a nice meal, maybe find some music.” He gave her the eager puppy look that used to charm her. Now it annoyed her.
Before she could respond, the entrance bell clanged and in walked Deck. Save me was her first thought. “Hey, Deck.”
“Callie.” His eyes softened, then he noticed Taylor. “Chief.” He nodded, his jaw tight.
“How’s it going, cowboy?” Taylor said. “Sorry about the meeting last night. Your commissioners played hooky. Must have been a game on.”
“There was a game, all right,” Deck said levelly.
“Taylor saved my butt. He hooked me up with a contractor after I lost my builders,” Callie said to lighten the moment.
“Is that so?”
Taylor kept watching Callie.
“By the way, Chief, check with the high school principal,” Deck said, his hostility like heat off a summer sidewalk. “She knows something about who vandalized the town Welcome sign. Some students with black ink on their hands and a lame story.”
“I’ve heard a dozen theories. It’s just kids being kids. The sign’s fixed. Let it go.”
“How’s your pop doing?” Deck asked, but the question wasn’t friendly. “He’s out in Green Valley, right?”
“Good. Plays a lot of golf. Entertains the ladies.”
“Tell him we miss him for me, would you?” Taylor’s father had been police chief before he’d retired.
Deck’s dig registered in Taylor’s face.
“See you later,” Deck spoke to Callie, then moved off.
Taylor stabbed at his steak, clearly fighting anger. He shot a look at her. “That guy…Always the superior asshole, throwing his weight around. He’s got the mayor in his back pocket. They’re locked in the past, the two of ’em. They’d run this town into the ground if they could.”
“I guess people have different opinions and ways of—”
“You ever wonder why he’s hanging around your ranch, brownnosing your dad?” he said, leaning forward.
“My dad needed help and he wanted the work.”
Taylor snorted. “Don’t kid yourself. He’s after the ranch. He thinks Cal’s in trouble and figures to steal it for a song.”
“Why would you say that?”
“People talk, Callie. He was sniffing after a loan at the bank.” He seemed to catch himself. “Sorry to be so hard with you, but not everyone is as good-hearted as you are.”
“I imagine you see the dark side in your job,” she said.
“Just don’t trust him. That’s all I’m saying.”
At least Taylor’s nasty attitude toward Deck had nothing to do with when she and Deck had been together. She hadn’t deliberately hidden the relationship, but it felt too private, too linked to her grief, to breathe a word about it.
At school, she had forced herself to be the optimistic, bubbly girl everyone expected. The pity on people’s faces had been torture, so she’d fought hard to act normal.
Only Deck had known her secret agony.
She looked over to where he was talking to two men at the counter. One patted his shoulder, as if to thank him. He took a few more steps before a woman stopped him to talk. At the next booth, a couple with a child spoke to him.
He’d mentioned being busy with civic stuff, which might be what Taylor meant about him throwing his weight around. Could Deck be after the ranch? He certainly acted proprietary about the place and he disdained her plan. But he was reserved, not secretive and direct, not sneaky. If he wanted the Triple C, he would have told her straight out. Wouldn’t he?
As if he felt her gaze, he shot her a sharp look. What are you doing with that guy? He would no doubt warn her against Taylor just as Taylor had warned her against him. Had to be some male-primate, chest-thumping routine. She sighed.
Meanwhile, Taylor was smiling tenderly at her. “Hiring Templeton gives me an excuse to come out and see you now and then.”
“That will be…nice.” Just great. As if she didn’t have enough trouble with one rekindled flame. Now she had Taylor to handle. Judging from his hopeful, tender expression, she’d need kid gloves.
6
RETURNING TO THE RANCH, Callie saw her father and Dahlia getting out of one of the ranch pickups. Dahlia held a shopping bag, and when she saw Callie she beamed.
“You should see what I picked up,” she said, holding out the sack. “I got some great herbs I can’t wait to use.” Near Callie she stilled, then leaned close to Callie’s hair and sniffed. “That’s my shampoo and conditioner!” She sniffed again. “My lotion, too!”
“Uh, yeah,” Callie said, unsettled by the woman’s bloodhound act. “I liked them a lot.”
“Oh, I am so happy,” Dahlia said. “Did you hear that, Calvin? She liked my products.”
“That’s no surprise,” Callie’s father said.
“We’ll need to discuss pricing and quantities for an order,” Callie said. “A small one at first.”
“I am so, so excited. This is fabulous. Isn’t it, Calvin?”
“It’s fabulous.”
His voice was so weak, Callie’s gaze shot to his face. “Are you all right, Dad?”
“Just a little tired.” He smiled.
“He needs some protein,” Dahlia said, reaching into her voluminous satchel. She pulled out a wrapped bar, which she handed to him. “I need to make us lunch.” She went into the ranch house.
Her father bit into the nut bar, then made a face. “Ick. What I want is one of Cooky’s jalapeño bacon burgers, but we’re watching my cholesterol.” He winked and linked arms with Callie as they headed in.
Inside the family kitchen, Dahlia had pulled a compartmentalized plastic container from her satchel and was looking over the labeled sections. “I know exactly what tea we need,” she said, tapping a square.
Peppermint. Go peppermint.
“No food for me,” Callie said to Dahlia. “I just ate.” She turned to her father. “While she’s cooking, maybe you and I could talk over the plans?”
“Excellent idea. I wanted to talk to you, too. We’ll be in my office, sweetheart,” he said to Dahlia.
“Oh. Okay. Sure. And while we eat, you and I can talk about the spa products, Callie? Maybe you can nibble…?”
“Sure,” she said. “That would be great.” Might as well get it over with. Which was no way to feel about the woman her father loved. Dahlia took some getting used to.
They headed for
her father’s office at the back of the house. “Isn’t she something?” her father said as they walked. “She carries her life around in that satchel. Of course, having to travel between our places, she doesn’t have much choice.”
“Are you thinking of changing that?” she asked. “I mean, the living arrangements?”
“I’d like Dahlia to move here, sure,” he said, then frowned. “But she loves her house. We’ll have to see.”
“You wouldn’t move to Tucson, would you? The ranch is your home.” Surely Dahlia wouldn’t force him to leave it.
“Sure it is. It’s the family home.” There was some hesitation in his voice—as if he wanted her approval or a confirmation. Before she could probe, they were inside the office, crowded with bookshelves and big furniture and framed photos of the ranch. The desk groaned with papers and folders and an older computer.
“How do you find anything, Dad?” she asked, welcoming the leather and pipe-tobacco scent. Dahlia had gotten him to give up his pipe, she knew, and for which she was grateful.
“I know what I need when I need it and where to find it,” he said, sitting on the worn leather sofa under a window. She sat beside him. This was where he’d taught her to play checkers and always let her win.
“So,” he said, “best to get right to it. Deck tells me you want to sell off the herd and the acres by the river.”
“Deck told you?”
“I have to say that I’m with Deck. That land is zoned for grazing, not housing. And let’s not be hasty with the livestock.”
Anger stabbed Callie. Deck had run to her father to criticize her plans? That was more than insulting—it was devious. “The cattle cost us more than we net right now, Dad. I’m trying to save the ranch. We have to cut losses. The best cash source is a higher occupancy rate. And, as I told Deck, I was considering selling those acres. It’s only an option.”
“I wish you’d give Deck a chance,” he said gently. “He’s right that I let the herd dwindle. He has some ideas on advertising and such that might work.”
She fought to stay calm. “I’ve done the research and the math. Business as usual won’t cut it. A few ads and some steers won’t reverse the decline. You asked for my help, Dad. I thought you gave me full rein.”