“Oh, yeah, I guess so. Do you have any ideas?”
“I would suggest artificial turf, but that really would cost a fortune.”
“And can horses even run on it?”
“I could check, maybe find out what it would cost.”
Brady turned to her with a smile that lit up his whole face and warmed her clear down to her toes.
“Hey, that would be great,” he said. “Thanks. It’s almost like we’re starting to work as a team here.”
She loved how delighted he was but couldn’t resist saying, “Don’t get too used to it. You only like it because I’m supporting your idea.”
“Ah, Zannah, don’t ruin it for me.”
Laughing, he reached an arm out as if to hug her, but she teasingly ducked away. She stumbled, and his arm hooked her around the waist, reeling her in and bringing her around to face him.
Her hat fell off and she made a grab for it, but it tumbled to the ground. Her breath caught on a laugh. He grinned at her, but it faded as he looked down at her.
His eyes were alight as if he was seeing something that pleased him, but his expression grew solemn as he studied her face.
Zannah did the same, her focus going from his eyes to his lips, then back again. Even when he’d had them do the staring-into-each-other’s-eyes exercise, she’d only actually been this close to him, been in his arms, one other time. And she hadn’t truly noticed that his lashes were dark, thick and lush around his eyes. She thought if she ran a fingertip across them, they would be as soft and supple as a fine-tipped painter’s brush.
Swallowing hard, she also realized that she’d never had such thoughts about a man’s lashes.
Brady, usually smiling and upbeat, was very solemn as he looked at her. “Zannah, I’m going to—”
She didn’t give him a chance to finish but placed her hand at the back of his neck and pulled his lips down to hers.
They were softer than she expected, warm and delicious. He seemed stunned at first, but then he pulled her more fully into his arms and met her fervent kisses with his own.
Her fingers skimmed over the scrapes on his face, and she pulled her lips from his to place light kisses on them.
“Zannah,” Brady said in a strangled voice. “What are you doing?”
“Making it all better.”
He cleared his throat. “I think this will only make things more complicated.”
Dazed, she drew back and blinked up at him. The gentle look in his eyes jolted her into stepping back. She felt heat washing over her face.
“Oh, Brady. I’m sorry. When you caught me, I—” She gulped. “You probably shouldn’t have caught me.”
He smiled. “Next time, I’ll let you fall.”
“That’s a better plan.”
She stepped back and tried to quell the embarrassment washing over her. What had she been thinking?
Brady stooped to pick up her hat. He made a point of examining it and dusting it off carefully, giving her a minute to compose herself.
Taking a deep breath, she cast around for a change of subject.
“So, once we get this leveled, graded and cleared, and can begin using it, how much do you think we should charge? Will it be part of guests’ regular fee, or extra? And if local people want to come out and try it, how much will that be? Will we factor in the additional costs to our insurance?”
Brady walked a few feet away, then turned and strode back and forth, covering more ground with each pass. She knew he liked to pace while he thought, so she waited.
“It will have to be free at first.”
“Free? I thought the idea was to add another income stream. We can’t do that if it’s free.”
“We have to see if people enjoy it before we can figure out how much to charge. It’s called a loss leader. Take a financial hit up front and make it up later.”
“I really don’t like the idea of going to all this work and expense and not knowing if it will pay off.” She put up a hand, palm out, to stop him from saying what she knew was coming. “And, yes, I know what you’re going to say. It’s the cost of doing business.”
Brady gave her an admiring look. “Now you’re catching on, partner.”
She laughed and turned to face the big, open area before them. “So, tell me how you think this course will work. You said we’ll need six stock tanks?”
“Yes, it’s something like golf in that the players have to get the ball into a tank.”
Zannah frowned. “Where’s the challenge in that? Stock tanks are a lot bigger than a hole in a golf course. Even the worst player can’t possibly miss.”
“But they’re not in the ground. I think we’ll get the ones that are at least two feet tall so it’s more of a challenge. Fill some of them with water, turn others into sand traps. When we get it set up, I’m going to invite my brothers to come and try it out. They both like golf and think they’re pretty good.”
“Uh-oh. I see brotherly competition heating up.” Zannah paused. “Wait a minute. I thought you and your brothers were all keeping your projects secret from each other.”
Brady shook his head. “Not completely. I’ve told them all about this place. I’m not as secretive as they are.”
“And are you thinking that once they’ve seen everything you’re accomplishing here at Eaglecrest, they’ll throw in the towel and let you win?”
Brady wagged his head from side to side. “Well...not really. I guess I didn’t tell you all the details of the challenge my dad gave us.”
She leveled a steady look at him as she crossed her arms at her waist. “Can’t say that I’m surprised. What other little nugget of information do I need to know—partner?”
“Finding a business in some branch of the entertainment industry and turning it around, making it profitable, is only part of it. The other part is that one of us also has to have the best, most sustainable plan to ensure the financial health of the project for many years into the future. When Dad is satisfied with that, along with all of the other details, he’ll decide the winner and fund our next project.”
“You mean, after you’re long gone from the area, taking the profits with you?”
“No! Zannah, we’re not corporate raiders.” He looked deeply annoyed. “My family has never done business that way, and my father trained us to never do that, either. This whole plan came about because Dad was seeing too many businesses that went under, and the main reason was that, even with an influx of cash and a solid business plan, there was no long-term vision. Planning was needed, not only years down the road, but decades.”
“I see.” Zannah thought about that for a minute. “I’ve learned more in the past few weeks about business than I thought my brain could hold, but I don’t see how golf on horseback is going to sustain us long-term.”
“Me neither,” he admitted. “This is for fun. I’ve got something else in the works.”
She looked him right in the eye. “And you’ll tell me about it when?”
He gave another little shrug, but he didn’t quite meet her gaze. “As soon as I know it will work. There are some details to handle first.”
Disappointed, Zannah said, “That’s all you’ll tell me right now, partner?”
“It’s better to keep it to myself for right now.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s big.”
She shook her head. “I thought you understood how much I hate being kept in the dark.”
He started to speak, but she walked over and picked up Trina’s reins. As she swung into the saddle and turned toward home, she thought about the kiss they’d shared, the one she had instigated. The closeness they had felt for a little while had dissipated as quickly as dew meeting the morning sun. It was nothing more substantial than that.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“AND WE’RE TAKING
down the walls between this room and the next one to have one much larger one, and a bigger sitting area,” Sharlene explained. “Can you believe we found the original hardwood floor underneath? And it is quarter-sawn golden maple in the bird’s nest pattern. It was beneath green shag carpeting and four layers of linoleum.”
“But the joke was on all those people who kept adding layers,” a voice said from nearby. A tall man Zannah didn’t know walked in to join them. “The bottom layer had never been glued, only tacked down.”
Sharlene glanced over her shoulder and smiled as she finished. “That’s right. The original floor was down there, filthy but virtually untouched. Refinishing this floor is going to be a breeze.”
The newcomer was slim and distinguished looking, with hair graying at the temples and an easy smile. Zannah thought he was about Sharlene’s age.
With a big smile, Sharlene walked over and took his arm, drawing him forward.
“This is Jeff Denton, the Realtor who’s been such a big part of this project. When he learned that Lucas was interested in selling, he got a bunch of us together to make this happen.”
She introduced Zannah and the girls. The whole time Sharlene and Jeff were talking about the ideas they had for the inn, they sprinkled compliments for each other into the conversation, pointing out how one or the other of them had brought in people who had necessary good ideas and skills.
They talked about how the building had originally been a hotel, then transitioned from that to a boardinghouse, getting more and more run-down over the years. The investors had decided to rename it the San Ramon Inn.
Zannah could barely keep her mouth from dropping slack in amazement as the years seemed to drop away from her lifelong friend. At one point, when they all went upstairs to see the progress, Jeff commented on the cleverness of Sharlene’s ideas for bathroom redesigns and Sharlene actually blushed.
Try as she might, Zannah couldn’t recall that ever happening before, and she had known Sharlene since birth. There was a whole lot more going on here than remodeling an old house into an upscale inn. Sharlene appeared to be getting a remodel, too.
Zannah felt a little ashamed that she had been so involved in her own issues with the ranch and Brady that she hadn’t given Sharlene as much thought as she should have. Beyond thinking of ways to fill her job at Eaglecrest, she hadn’t really considered what would happen next, but this was huge for Sharlene. She was starting an entirely new life. Zannah felt immensely proud of her.
When they were back in the car and headed home, Emma asked, “Is Sharlene gonna marry that guy?”
“No, of course not.” Zannah’s gaze shot to the rearview mirror so she could see her niece’s face. Emma was staring up into the sky, a faraway look in her eyes.
“He really likes her,” Joelle added. “He said nice things about her.”
“Well, he’s a nice man, and...and they’re friends.”
“Grandpa never says nice things about her.”
“Well, he certainly never says mean things to her,” Zannah insisted.
“No, but when you’re friends with someone, especially for a long, long time, you need to say nice things.”
“I’m sure he thinks them,” Zannah answered, wondering where in the world all of this was coming from.
“He needs to say them.”
Since they were absolutely right, and she didn’t want to talk about this anymore, Zannah asked, “Who wants ice cream?”
* * *
GUS MOVED RESTLESSLY around his camp, rechecking his horses, who were peacefully grazing and probably wishing he would leave them the heck alone.
He still had daylight, so he could read the book he’d brought. It was about lucky precious-metal strikes in the West. Or he could go back to what he’d been doing for months, which was studying Henry’s old maps. Usually they were endlessly fascinating to him, but not tonight.
The only thing he could think of was Sharlene.
What was she doing? Was she at the inn she was abandoning him for? Them for, he corrected himself. He didn’t know who all was involved in this project, but he had a mental picture of her working with them then heading over to Sadie’s for a bite to eat, just a big, happy bunch of friends.
She used to be in her little house every night. When Esther was alive, the two of them would work on sewing projects together. They were together many evenings making curtains and matching bedspreads for the cabins, kids’ clothes for the community clothing bank, or any number of other projects.
It hadn’t occurred to him until this minute to wonder what she’d done with her evenings since Esther had died. He knew she’d grieved for her best friend, her sewing and decorating partner.
He could see now that the big change he had decided to make had pushed her into making one of her own.
But she’d said she loved him, had for years. She hadn’t told him earlier, but he had to wonder if it would have made any difference if she had. Probably not. He was starting a new life, and so was she. He had to accept that.
Gus took another turn around his camp, poked up his fire, added more wood, then sat down again. He considered drinking another cup of coffee, but knew he was already going to be awake well into the night. He couldn’t seem to let go of what was on his mind—had been on his mind for days now.
Maybe Sharlene wasn’t out with friends. Maybe she was on a date with that guy. What was his name? Jeff something. He should have looked the guy up before he’d left, found out his intentions.
Gus had seen him, and thinking back, he realized that he was probably a little too slick. He already knew he wouldn’t like the guy if he met him. Sitting back, he thought about that for a minute. He had friends in Raymond that he could call to ask about this Jeff, but Sharlene would probably hear about it and be mad at him.
But how could she be mad at him? Hadn’t she said she loved him? That meant she wouldn’t stay mad at him for very long.
He called Zannah, who answered on the first ring.
“Hi, Dad,” she said breathlessly. “I can’t really talk now. The girls and I got back from seeing Sharlene’s place only a minute ago and I’ve got to get ready. My friends will be here soon.”
“How is Sharlene’s place?”
“It’s going to be wonderful. She’s so excited.” Zannah chuckled. “I think a big part of it is that Realtor who’s involved, though. His name’s Jeff Denton, and I think she really likes him.”
Cold swept through Gus. “She does, huh?”
“Yeah, they’re so sweet together. She was really down in the dumps around here, but now she’s cheered up.”
“She has?”
“Yes. Listen, can you call back tomorrow? I’ve got to get ready.”
“Sure, honey. Goodbye.” He ended the call and stood staring at the rocks around him on the windswept peak. The guy’s name was Denton and he and Sharlene were so sweet together.
* * *
ZANNAH SHOULD HAVE pushed Brady about the idea he had percolating for long-term financial growth. She fretted over it when they returned to Eaglecrest and got her nieces settled in their own room with books to read. She had told them the bachelorette party was only grown-ups. If she was truly lucky, they might actually listen.
The call from Gus slowed her down some, but she didn’t have time to think about the odd call or the flat tone of Gus’s voice.
She hurried to her room to shower and change, her thoughts circling back to Brady. There wasn’t time to deal with it right now, though. She was excited about her friends coming, and she didn’t have the time or extra energy to track him down to see what he had in mind. She didn’t like not knowing, and she hated that he didn’t come right out with it. It made her feel as if any progress they had made toward trust was once again snatched away from her.
And why was it that she was supposed to trust him, but he didn’t seem willing
to do the same thing?
She made a conscious effort to push it away. She wasn’t going to let it ruin the next couple of days.
Zannah picked out sandals and a turquoise sundress with a wildly patterned belt, brushed her hair out so that it fell around her shoulders, then stood back to look at herself.
She had to smile. When she had left her job in Vegas, she had promised herself that she would never again scrape her hair up into a bun or pull it back in a severe twist simply to keep it out of her way.
However, she had done exactly that when she got back home, braiding her hair or pulling it into a ponytail so she wouldn’t have to bother with it.
By the time she arrived downstairs, camera in hand, her friends were driving up to the entrance. She was soon swept up in the excitement of seeing them again.
* * *
BRADY STOOD OUT of sight of Zannah’s guests, watching her interact with the newcomers. He’d been invited to play poker over at Fordham’s, and he needed to get going, but the opportunity to linger and watch Zannah with her friends was too tempting.
This was a different Zannah than the one he saw every day at Eaglecrest. She was free to relax, chat with her friends and Phoebe, eat an actual meal and drink a little wine.
They had commandeered the screened-in terrace that ran the full length of the back of the house, had even closed the doors into the dining room so they wouldn’t be disturbed.
Though he’d been to many bachelor parties, he wasn’t too familiar with the female version. These women were having fun but were much more restrained than what he usually saw with men. They appeared to be more interested in visiting than in drinking.
And he was lurking in the nearly empty dining room like a stalker.
Turning away, he was almost run over by Emma and Joelle, who had somehow managed to find themselves some party finery consisting of rhinestone tiaras and feather boas.
“Hi, Brady,” Joelle said. “We’re going to the party.”
He was surprised they were invited, but they zipped past him and he received his answer with the surprised look on their aunt’s face when the girls whirled through the door.
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