Accounting for Love - A Long Valley Romance: Country Western Romance Novel

by Wright, Erin

  Jennifer flew out of the chair. She vaulted toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissed him. She eventually broke the kiss, enjoying the decent as she slid down against his body.

  “Ummm…yes. I would like that,” she said, her heart skipping a beat at the thought. Somehow, the idea of her car being broken didn’t matter nearly as much as her having the perfect excuse to spend another heavenly night in his arms.

  But as they headed into town, Jennifer began to feel a little conspicuous. She’d stuck with the t-shirt, but with only the heels for shoes, she’d opted to change back into the black pencil skirt.

  Walk of shame with a country twang. I’ve worn worse.

  The road was still sloppy even though the rain had finally stopped. Jennifer could see where she had slid off the road and the drastic ruts on the surface of the road from the tractor.

  It certainly looks worse than it turned out, thank God.

  Stetson watched her reaction as they passed the car tracks but didn’t say anything.

  He did bring the truck to a full stop at the intersection where the ranch road met the pavement. Jennifer looked at him quizzically.

  “There are some distinct advantages to a pickup truck,” Stetson said and lifted the center console of the seat to make one long bench.

  Jennifer was amazed. The night before was her first ride ever in a pickup, and with everything else that had been going on, she hadn’t considered the idea that the seat might be convertible.

  “Well, with the center pulled up like this, the passenger can sit closer to the driver,” he prompted, pulling her out her thoughts. She grinned up at him and slid up against him.

  “You mean like this?” she said as her thigh touched his.

  “Yes, exactly like that,” he said, smiling down at her. He draped his arm around her and pulled her even closer. She snuggled up against him, breathing in his scent that was all Stetson - pine trees and wet grass and rich soil and something else undefinable but oh so him.

  The rest of the drive into town was pleasantly uneventful. The warmth of Stetson’s body along with the light rocking of the truck as it sped down the road was lulling her into a light doze.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Stetson said, pulling her out of her boneless relaxed state.

  “Hmmmm?” she mumbled sleepily. He hadn’t exactly let her sleep much the night before, and Carmelita’s amazing coffee seemed to be wearing off.

  “Did you only bring dress clothes with you?”

  It took Jennifer a few moments to shake off the grogginess.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “How about shoes?”

  “I only brought high heels,” she admitted, starting to feel more awake.

  “If you’re going to stay at the farmhouse, it might be a good idea for you to pick up some clothes better suited to being on the farm.”

  “That isn’t a bad idea. Is there a place to get clothes in town?”

  “Frank’s.”

  “Well, I hope their clothing selection is better than their food selection,” Jennifer said drily.

  “Oh, come on, how can you not like the torrtaco?”

  Jennifer was appalled. How could he like the torrtaco when he had Carmelita’s food to eat at home?! She opened up her mouth to set him straight when she looked at his face, his smile giving away the sarcasm. She laughed and settled her head down against his shoulder instead.

  Gathering up her things and checking out of the motel only took a few moments. If Margaret had any thoughts about her leaving the motel so soon, she didn’t say them out loud.

  Jennifer noticed, however, when she looked back at the office window as she hoisted herself up into the cab of the truck, that Margaret had not gone back to her TV. She was watching, not so discreetly, as Jennifer and Stetson drove away. Jennifer wouldn’t be surprised if rumors about them reached the far corners of the tiny town within the hour.

  She and Stetson had a surprisingly large amount of fun shopping for clothes. The selection was not very wide, but she was able to find a couple pairs of jeans that had rhinestones on the back pockets.

  I’ve never really liked rhinestones, but this could actually work.

  She might have been self-conscious about the size of her breasts, but her ass was something she wasn’t afraid to show off.

  Frank’s carried a few different types of boots. She finally settled on a pair of cowboy boots that had red leather uppers with a soft brown lower section. She spent a long time admiring the stitching that covered the boots.

  She added a few pairs of socks and a couple of fitted t-shirts with John Deere emblazoned on the front to her bundle and headed to the counter. She paused at the total, $312.95, before she remembered the boots alone were over $200. As she was digging for her credit card, the cashier handed her a receipt.

  She turned around to glare at Stetson but he just winked. With a sigh, she gave in. It was hard to argue with someone who was so blatantly happy about his sneakiness. She went up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she said softly. He possessively pulled her close and dragged her out of the shop, all of her bags in his other hand.

  Finally, they headed back to the farm. Jennifer found her spot next to Stetson with her head on his shoulder and her legs curled under her. Life was…perfect.

  Until Jennifer’s phone started ringing. The familiar notes of “Working Overtime” let her know exactly who was calling. Jennifer silenced the ringer without even looking at the screen. She was not going to allow her boss to ruin a perfect day.

  “You can take that if you want,” Stetson offered.

  “It’s okay. I don’t want to deal with it right now. He can leave a message.”

  “Who is that?”

  “My boss, Greg.”

  “Ahhhhh,” Stetson said with a knowing tone.

  The phone started ringing again.

  I don’t want to work.

  I want to bang on these drums all day.

  “It’s okay, I really don’t mind,” Stetson reassured her.

  Swiping the answer button as she sat up straight, she put the phone to her ear.

  “Hi, Greg,” she said.

  I sounded more pleasant than I feel. That’s a good start.

  “Why didn’t you answer when I called just a second ago?” he demanded.

  “I couldn’t get to the phone fast enough. It was in my bag,” Jennifer lied without a twinge of guilt.

  “I’ve had just about enough of your excuses. I’m tired of reminding you that I don’t want to hear them,” Greg blasted her.

  “It was just a reason, not an excuse.”

  “I don’t want to hear it. Are you done with the audit yet?”

  “I just finished entering the expenses. Today, I am looking at income and assets.”

  “You have dragged your feet long enough on this one. I want an answer today, and I want that answer to be foreclosure.”

  “But that may not…”

  “That is the answer that I want, that is the answer the board wants, and that is going to be the answer you give. You are only out there on this little vacation because the loan contract stipulates that an audit must be conducted. The contract does not say what results that audit must be. We, as the bank, get to determine what the result of that audit will be, and this one will be foreclosure. Do I make myself clear?”

  “You know that is—”

  “You don’t get to tell me what to think. I am the boss, you are the employee, and therefore, I get to tell you what to think. Get me my results and quick.”

  “I can’t—”

  “You can’t what? You can’t work here anymore? That is what is going to happen if you continue to be insubordinate.”

  “That isn’t—”

  “I really don’t care what you think it is or it isn’t. Let me tell you exactly what it is. This is about the board backing a huge development deal to gentrify that shithole little town. If you haven’t noticed, that farm sits very nicely near
the base of a mountain that, with a little bit of the bank’s money, could be a very nice ski resort. If you don’t want to play ball, then I don’t need your services any longer. Now get me that report!”

  The line went dead.

  Jennifer peeled the phone away from her ear. She had not realized how hard she’d been pressing it into her skull.

  That smarmy son-of-a-bitch. How dare he do this? Predetermining the results of an audit is unethical - how dare he ask me to do that!

  “Everything okay?” Stetson asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  Jennifer took a few breaths to solidify her resolve. She couldn’t tell Stetson what was going on - it would only piss him off and not solve anything. She had to play this down until she figured out what to do.

  “Greg can be an overbearing ass, but what can I do?” she said lightly. “He’s the boss!”

  “Yeah, bosses can be a pain in the ass. My boss can be a real asshole, too.”

  “I don’t know; Carmelita seems very sweet to me,” Jennifer shot back and he laughed, the tension dispersing at least for the moment. Jennifer curled up on the seat again, resting her head against Stetson’s strong and reassuring shoulder.

  I am going to find a way to fix this. Even if I have to invest in this farm myself.

  Chapter 15

  Stetson helped Jennifer carry her new clothes into the house. Sadly, she followed him, keeping him from being able to appreciate her ass as they walked. He put her bags down on the bed of the guest bedroom.

  “Trying to keep up appearances?” Jennifer teased as she placed her suitcase next to the shopping bags on the twin-sized bed.

  “No, I just don’t want all of this stuff to get in our way when we’re using the master bedroom,” he said before bending down to kiss her. She grinned up at him when they finally broke apart.

  “This makes it sound like we might be doing some…acrobatic moves tonight,” she said suggestively. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “That’s because we are.” He watched as the shivers raced down her spine. Her very delectable spine that ended in an extraordinarily delectable derrière. He contemplated pulling her against him and showing her just what kind of acrobatic moves he had in mind, when he suddenly remembered.

  He pulled back from her and looked down at his watch, a dark cloud passing over his face as his expression changed.

  “What’s wrong?” Jennifer asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek before resting her cheek against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, enjoying her softness against him as he spoke.

  “I have a meeting with my brothers in about an hour, up at the barn.”

  “Why is that a bad thing?”

  “Declan is fine, but Wyatt, my oldest brother, can be a real pain in the ass to work with. We share equipment during harvest to keep our costs down, and since we start by cutting his grain, Wyatt thinks he’s in charge. Well, that and he’s the oldest, so he always thinks he’s in charge. Anyway, he starts giving orders and rushes around like a mad man, equipment gets broken, and then Declan and I get stuck with the repairs.”

  I hope she buys that. I really don’t want to explain the full situation right now. Maybe later.

  “I’m sorry. That sounds tough. I know you can get through it,” Jennifer said, reaching up and kissing him again. She was soothing and encouraging and…everything he needed right then.

  What a difference she makes.

  “I should head up to the barn. You okay without me?”

  “I think I’ll manage.”

  The farm yard was drying out and the drive up the hill to the barn wasn’t that bad. He was gloomy though, as he walked into the barn. The lights buzzed, warming up for the first time that day.

  He did not have anything to prepare for the meeting, so Stetson killed the time by pulling the dusty Army surplus tarp back over the old Miller tractor. Hopefully he’d be able to get back to this project soon. He didn’t want it to be another five years before he uncovered this piece of history.

  “You in here?” Declan called from the front of the barn.

  “Yeah. I’m back here. Just a second.”

  Stetson walked out to the front. His brothers had found a stool and a crate to sit on. Stetson leaned on the bumper of one of the trucks. Usually Declan had the schedule worked out, so Stetson waited for him to begin.

  “So here is the deal,” Wyatt took the lead instead. “It has been a crap year for water, other than this awful rainstorm we just had, so my dryland wheat is ripening quicker than I’d like. So Stetson, you’re going to bring the trucks up next week. You have three guys, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got three right now. What day you thinking of starting? I haven’t done the oil changes and stuff on the trucks yet.”

  “We are starting Monday,” Wyatt said flatly.

  “I can’t do that!” Stetson said. “I gave the guys the weekend off. I can’t start until Tuesday or maybe Wednesday.”

  “Shit, Stetson, do we always have to hold your hand?” Wyatt snapped.

  “My trucks aren’t ready either,” Declan jumped in. A true middle child, he was always playing the part of the peacemaker between Wyatt and Stetson.

  “What the hell have you guys been doing all summer?” Wyatt demanded.

  “We have our own farms to pay attention to,” Stetson shot back.

  He knew his temper was rising much more quickly than it normally would have, but Wyatt had always gotten under his skin so easily.

  “You have four trucks of your own. Why don’t you start on Monday?” Declan said. “We’ll come up when we get our trucks ready.” He opened his laptop and started typing notes.

  “You’ve always been lazy,” Wyatt said nastily, glaring at Stetson. “You leave the easy crap until the last minute and expect the rest of us to wait while you get your shit together.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t do the easy crap at all and you can harvest your own damn wheat,” Stetson responded, feeling the heat rise in his face.

  “You forget, baby brother, that I am the one with the harvester. You don’t want to help? Fine. You can be the one who cuts his own fucking wheat.”

  “Screw you!” Stetson said, reaching his limit. “I will just hire some custom cutters. They have to be cheaper than the repairs I have to make after you use my equipment. You planning on paying for the repairs from last year before we start on this year’s bill?”

  “You got the farm. The rest of us had to actually work for what we have.”

  “Hey, guys?” Declan interrupted. “My guys are working this weekend. I can have the trucks ready to go by Monday. We will bring up my trucks and the tractors with the plows then. Stetson, can you get your stuff ready to go by Tuesday?”

  “Yeah,” Stetson snapped, keeping his eyes on Wyatt. His brothers sat there for a moment before they stood up to leave.

  Stetson hesitated.

  I am not in the mood to tell them.

  Shit! I better just rip off the Band-Aid.

  “Guys! Before you go, I need to talk to you,” Stetson called out after them. The other two men stopped and turned around.

  “What do you want now?” Wyatt bit off the question.

  Why couldn’t he just make something easy for once?

  He took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I’m sure Declan told you about the accountant.”

  “Yeah. I heard you can’t run a calculator. What about it?”

  “Knock it off,” Declan scolded his older brother. “He found help, and I think that’s a very smart and mature thing for him to do.”

  “He never should have gotten into a mess in the first place,” Wyatt said, before turning to Stetson. “Guess Dad didn’t teach Golden Boy everything, or maybe the precious little boy couldn’t be bothered to listen.”

  “Wyatt!” Declan yelled.

  “No, Declan, it’s okay,” Stetson interrupted. “There’s more to it than that. Dad had to take out an operating loan to cover the farm expenses. My cows co
vered his medical bills, but not the farm.”

  I really wish I didn’t have to do this.

  Stetson drew in another deep breath and pressed forward.

  “There was a balloon payment on that loan that was due on January 1st. I haven’t made the payment,” Stetson was talking quickly so that Wyatt couldn’t interrupt him. “The accountant is here at insistence of the bank to see if there is a way for me to make the payment.”

  “Holy shit,” Wyatt exploded. “I can’t believe it! I was right. You are an idiot. I bet it was those stupid cows sucking down all of the money.”

  “Dad’s cancer took all the money from the cows. I noticed you couldn’t be bothered to contribute to that effort. It was my cows that gave Dad six extra months. You were too busy to come around and find out about that,” Stetson spat out, standing ramrod straight as he spoke.

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? We would’ve helped you,” Declan offered. “I know that it’s hard to admit when you’re having problems, and I’m hurt that you weren’t honest with me the other day, but we can figure something out.”

  “Oh yeah, throw more money at the Golden Boy so he doesn’t have to learn how to work,” Wyatt yelled, turning his anger toward his other brother. “I should pay off the loan and take over the farm. It should have been me that got it anyway! I’m the oldest and the smartest.”

  “Because you’ve never had bad years?” Declan responded, starting to show his anger.

  “Oh no, the Perfect Brother has never had any problems!” Stetson yelled sarcastically.

  “Yeah, it’s so hard having everything handed to you on a silver platter. Grow up, you whiny little bastard,” Wyatt screamed, inches away from Stetson’s face. Stetson felt the spittle hit his cheeks as Wyatt ranted and raved. “Don’t you ever think that your bedwetting problems are anything close to what I’ve had to live through. I am ten times the man you will ever dream to be. No wonder Michelle left you standing in the church. No woman wants to marry a baby.”

  The comment hit well below the belt. Stetson saw red as he went in for the verbal blow.

  “You’re a real man, all right,” Stetson’s voice was low and full of danger. “You’ve been directing your anger at us for so long, I sometimes wonder if you’ve bothered to get around to being pissed at the drunk driver that actually killed your wife and daughter. Stop blaming us for that shit.”