Love Me Tender

by Susan Fox

  Inside the restaurant, Dave said hello to a female server. The young blonde’s long burgundy velvet dress was flattering, but the style was old-fashioned, as was her upswept hairdo held in place with sparkly combs. Glancing past her, Cassidy noted a male server in a buttoned vest, bow tie, and brimmed hat. The servers and the décor, featuring dark wood and gleaming brass, had the feel of a classy saloon from a Western movie set back in the 1800s.

  The Wild Rose Inn was impressive, and so was its owner. Cassidy peeked at Dave’s ring finger, which was bare. If he was single, a hot guy like him, a business owner, had to be one of the most eligible bachelors in this small town. Which meant that, if he was still single, he likely wasn’t marriage minded. And that meant he and Cassidy had something important in common. Marriage was a crap shoot, the odds of failure higher than those of success. She’d learned that from her parents. And when marriages failed, families were torn apart. Hearts got broken.

  Even if she felt an occasional twinge of envy for couples and families who did seem happy, she always reminded herself that their odds of staying that way were slim. Seemed to her, it was crazy to set yourself up for heartbreak. Much better to have a little short-term fun, both partners knowing exactly what they were doing, then move on. Not that she was a slut or anything. Fun was great, but the guy had to be special, and she had to feel not just lust but a real sense of connection. That hadn’t happened for eight or nine months, but already she sensed potential in Dave Cousins.

  She’d come to Caribou Crossing for riding, fresh air, a healthy lifestyle. Add a sexy guy with potential, and life didn’t get much better.

  The server seated them in a window booth. After Cassidy had ordered her capooch and Dave had asked for plain black coffee, she grinned at the man seated across from her. “Nice place you’ve got here. It’s like a saloon in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid—which, by the way, I’m not named after.”

  “Who are you named after?”

  “My gramps. James Cassidy. He was the best guy in the world.”

  “Nice.” He nodded approvingly. “Anyhow, yes, the dining room is modeled on an upscale gold rush saloon.”

  “Oh yeah, this must have been a gold rush town, right? I saw those old pictures in the lobby.” She’d noticed sepia photos of miners and cowboys.

  “Yup. Caribou Crossing was on the Cariboo Wagon Road. A couple of miners struck gold in a big way in the early 1860s and a town sprang up. When the gold ran out, a few enterprising miners decided not to follow the lure of gold elsewhere, but to start ranching. The land was ideal for it. And now Caribou Crossing is also a tourist town, playing up both our gold rush history and the Western ranching theme.”

  “That’s why I came. For the horses.”

  “I’m curious. But you’re hungry.” He gestured to the menu lying on the table. “Order some food; then tell me what brings you here.”

  Confident that she’d find a job and pay Dave back, she wouldn’t choose the cheapest meal. Miners’ flapjacks served with bacon, maple syrup, and strawberries sounded delicious.

  She gratefully accepted the cappuccino the server brought her, then placed her order. “Fuel for job hunting,” she said cheerfully.

  While Dave added his order for a side of biscuits, she savored the first hot, frothy, delicious sips of coffee and glanced out the window. Last night, the town had been dark and she’d been too dog-tired to take in any details. She’d honed in on the light coming from the Wild Rose’s windows and stumbled toward it, with that stupid bum leg going numb on her.

  Now, in late morning sunlight, she saw what a picturesque town it was. Across the street were small shops: a toy store, a women’s clothing boutique, an arts and crafts shop, a drugstore. Attractive and well maintained, each had its own style, yet they fit together comfortably.

  The people on the street were like that, too. A woman in a business suit, carrying a briefcase, strode briskly past a family of four who’d stopped to peer in the window of the toy store. A striking brunette in an RCMP uniform chatted with a middle-aged couple in Caribou Crossing T-shirts bearing a logo similar to a pedestrian-crossing sign but with a stylized caribou.

  “What do you think?” Dave asked.

  She turned from one appealing view to another and saw curiosity in those gorgeous eyes of his. “Nice town you have here.”

  “Thanks. We like it.” He gave a rather smug grin that she found enormously sexy.

  Actually, pretty much everything he did, from the easy, athletic way he moved, to the relaxed way he chatted with his staff, to the way he raised his coffee mug with his strong hand, was sexy. Her body hadn’t felt so alert and alive in a long time—and it wasn’t from the caffeine.

  He went on. “So you were saying you came here for the horses? You’re a rider?”

  “Kind of.” She savored another sip of coffee, closing her eyes to enhance the pleasure. When her lashes drifted upward, she caught him gazing at her with obvious male interest.

  Quickly, he glanced away. “Go on.”

  “I was waitressing at a sports bar in Vancouver and the job itself was fun, especially when Canucks games were playing on the wide screen.” She grinned, remembering the cheers when the home team scored, not to mention the good tips.

  “But the manager kept coming on to me, wouldn’t take no for an answer.” The memory sent a sour twinge through her stomach. “Sunday night, he crossed the line. I got away from him, but it was totally obvious I couldn’t keep working there.”

  Dave frowned. “That’s terrible. You should report the jerk.”

  “Yeah, well . . .” It was easier to just move on. “I also wasn’t getting along with my roommate. I’d moved into her place and was paying half the rent, but I sure didn’t get equal rights. She filled the fridge with her crap, hogged the bathroom, always had her friends in the living room, even stored some of her stuff in my bedroom. We fought all the time.”

  Their food arrived. Dave’s steaming biscuits were the same kind she’d savored last night along with that rich beef stew. This morning they came with butter, honey, and strawberry jam. Her own flapjacks formed a golden-brown stack surrounded by crisp bacon and sliced strawberries. The server placed a ceramic jug of maple syrup on the table.

  “Mmm, thank you.” Cassidy’s nose twitched at the delicious scent of bacon.

  For a few minutes, she ate happily. Dave tackled his biscuits, apparently content to wait for her to pick up her story when she was ready. She liked that. Most guys filled any silence with talk about their jobs, their cars, their favorite sports teams.

  She also liked the intentness with which he’d listened to her, and the indignation in his eyes when she’d told him about her former boss. A nice guy, this Dave Cousins, on top of being a hottie. She got a vibe that he was attracted to her too, but it was a subdued one, as if he had reservations. Or perhaps a wife or girlfriend, which made him total taboo for her.

  After downing half her meal, she carried on. “I was tired of Vancouver. I love cities and it’s a great one, but I was ready for something different. I’d been there four months and I rarely stay anywhere much longer than that.”

  His brow furrowed as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. Lots of people didn’t relate to her gypsy lifestyle. For her, “a new day, a new adventure” was a much more rewarding way to live than all that planning, saving, thinking about the future stuff that so many people invested themselves in. For God’s sake, who knew if you were even going to have a future? Look at her mom’s mom, who fell down the steps and broke her neck at the age of twenty-eight.

  Cassidy went on with her story. “This woman I met when I was getting my hair cut, she was saying how much fun she had last summer at a resort ranch near Caribou Crossing.”

  “The Crazy Horse?”

  “Right.” She accepted the server’s offer of a second cappuccino, then told Dave, “I’ve done a little riding and I have a craving to do it again. And to breathe nice fresh country air.” City days were long and
demanding, what with work, friends, partying. She was only twenty-seven, but she’d been feeling run-down. And then there was that stupid thing with her left leg. She must have strained it, because a week or so ago it had gone tingly, then numb. The numbness went away after two or three days, though since then she still got occasional pins and needles and numbness. Like last night, when that crazy-long day had culminated in her embarrassing face plant.

  She’d strained her leg, and she was run-down. That’s all it was. It was nothing like what had happened to her great-grandmother. GG had ended up unable to walk, unable to speak properly, incontinent—

  No, she wasn’t going to think about her mom’s grandmother. No way did she have GG’s debilitating disease.

  “So,” Cassidy resumed the story, “yesterday morning I told my roomie I was leaving. She said I owed rent because I wasn’t giving notice, so I gave her the few hundred dollars I had and kept twenty for myself. I should’ve kept at least a hundred, but she was yelling and I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I tossed my belongings in my backpack and hit the road.”

  Dave frowned, like she wasn’t making sense. “You must have money in the bank, though.”

  Must? Like it was some kind of rule? She shook her head. “I’ve never been big on saving. Life’s for living, right?”

  “But you have to think about tomorrow, next month, next year.”

  All those strings people wove around themselves, tying them down like they were in prison. “Not me. Tomorrow comes, I’ll decide what I want to do. Next month, I’ll decide where to go. Next year”—she shrugged—“I could be in India, Albuquerque, or Cuba.”

  Now he was looking at her like she’d descended from outer space. “Where’s your home?”

  She was tempted to say Alpha Centauri but figured the truth would freak him out enough. “Wherever I hang my backpack.”

  “But you must come from somewhere.”

  “Born in Victoria, but I haven’t lived there since I was seventeen.”

  “Your parents are there?”

  “No, they’re in Acapulco right now. But that won’t last.” Marriage number three—to each other—was as doomed to failure as the previous two. Her parents never learned.

  “Why not?”

  “Long story.” Talking about her parents was depressing. She polished off the last of her late breakfast. “That was delicious.”

  “You have no home, no savings, and everything you own is in your backpack?” His face bore a glazed expression, like she’d laid too much on him too quickly. The guy probably lived in the same town he’d been born in, next door to his parents. Hard to believe a man like that wouldn’t be married. Why not find out?

  “That’s me. Now how about you? You own the Wild Rose, you were probably born in Caribou Crossing . . .” She paused, collected his nod. “Married to your high school sweetheart?”

  He blinked. “Uh, kind of. We’re divorced.”

  “Ah.” He didn’t go on to say he was engaged or dating someone seriously. Chances were, a smart guy like Dave had figured out, as she had, that it was crazy to invest your heart in a relationship that would likely crash and burn.

  The server began to clear their empty plates. Cassidy said, “Bring me the bill for both of us, please.”

  The woman whipped it out of the small ruffled apron she wore over her velvet dress. It was a typical hotel bill with space to put your room number. Cassidy added a 25 percent tip and wrote “22” for the room number.

  Dave glanced at the bill. “You’re a generous tipper.”

  “Good service deserves it.”

  “It does. Thought you didn’t have any money.” He eyed her quizzically.

  “I’ll pay the hotel bill the moment I get my first paycheck.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Okay, he wasn’t convinced. But she was telling the truth. She hated being in anyone’s debt. “I need to pick your brain about where I might find work. You think the Crazy Horse might be hiring?”

  “I doubt it, but I’ll give you Kathy and Will’s phone number. What kind of job are you looking for?”

  “Whatever. Server, bartender, salesclerk, cashier. Receptionist, clerk, admin person. Nanny, companion, housekeeper, chambermaid. Flag girl, shelf stocker, dishwasher. Basically, anything that doesn’t call for a degree, I can do. Oh, and I have up-to-date first aid certification.”

  Again seeing skepticism on his face, she said, “I swear I’m good. And I don’t just up and leave jobs—I give fair notice. Unless the boss harasses me, like at the sports bar.”

  “Mmm.”

  Clearly, she still hadn’t convinced him. And she needed to, not only so he’d help her find work, but because his opinion mattered. She was fine with him not “getting” the whole gypsy lifestyle thing, but she didn’t want him thinking she was some irresponsible flake. “It’s summer and you said this is a tourist town. Businesses must be taking on extra staff, right?”

  “You have references?”

  “Sure. On my flash drive. I need to find a place to print the file.”

  He studied her, his brow furrowed. “You really are good at all those things? Waiting tables, bartending, cashier, receptionist, chambermaid?”

  She nodded eagerly. “I’ve worked across Canada, the States, Europe, Asia. I speak fluent Spanish—learned from my dad—and a bit of French, German, and Italian.”

  “Huh.” His eyes had an inward look.

  She tilted her head. “Huh?”

  That almost-dimple flickered. God, he was so cute. She’d love to coax that dimple out of hiding. A ripple of sexual desire quivered through her body.

  “The Wild Rose could use a fill-in person. For when the receptionist takes a break, or we need to turn over a bunch of rooms fast, or a server or bartender is on holiday or calls in sick.”

  “Oh!” She hadn’t expected that. “A jill-of-all-trades?” She leaned forward. “You bet! I’m totally flexible about what hours I work. How about I run upstairs and get my flash drive? I should check out anyhow so I’ll grab my backpack. Then we can print out my resume and references and you can take a look.”

  Cassidy liked everything she’d seen of the Wild Rose. Plus, Dave Cousins didn’t seem like the kind of boss who’d sexually harass anyone. More likely the female staff came on to him.

  Would he date an employee? She sure hoped that wasn’t against his rules, because the more she got to know him, the more potential she saw for the two of them having a lot of fun.

  Chapter Three

  Late Friday afternoon, Robin burst through the door of Dave’s office, beaming. “School’s over! It’s summer!”

  His slim, vibrant daughter was dressed in jeans and boots, her chestnut hair pony-tailed under a straw Resistol hat. As usual, she’d ridden her mare the eight miles from Jessie and Evan’s, stabling the horse a few blocks away at the same place where Dave kept his gelding.

  Merlin, who’d been sleeping on the rug, bounced to his feet and rushed to greet her. She hugged and patted the more than fifty pounds of happily squirming black poodle. Last Christmas Dave had picked the young rescue animal as a gift for Robin, who’d been begging for them to have a dog at the Wild Rose. The pair had bonded immediately.

  Dave had to admit that Robin had been right. The dog was a good companion for him when his daughter wasn’t around. The poodle was smart and sweet-tempered, loved the outdoors, and didn’t require much exercise other than a long walk or run every day. His short-clipped curly coat didn’t shed and he didn’t provoke allergies, important qualities for a hotel dog.

  “Hey, how about me?” Dave said in a mock-grumbly voice. “Don’t I get a hug too?” He was so happy to have his daughter back with him. He and Jessie each took her three or four nights a week and were flexible about adjusting to each other’s—and of course Robin’s—needs.

  The girl laughed, rose, and came to throw her arms around him. “Hi, Dad.”

  He hugged her back. “Happy summer, sweetheart.”

  �
��It’s going to be a great one!”

  I just hope it’s a safe one. His daughter lived life to the fullest. He appreciated her exuberance, but her tomboy ways often made him fear for her safety. If he lost Robin—

  No, he wouldn’t even think it.

  “Mom’s going to pay me to work at Boots!”

  “I know. We discussed it.”

  His daughter had been riding and caring for horses since she was tiny. In Jessie’s family, with their ranching background, it was tradition for children to pull their weight in terms of doing chores. Robin loved it, especially when, as at Jessie’s Riders Boot Camp, it involved horses. Maybe paying her wasn’t strictly kosher in terms of child labor laws, but there’d be no stopping her from helping out, her work did have value, and she deserved to be rewarded for it.

  She was pretty amazing, his Robin.

  A glance at the clock on the wall had him asking his daughter, “Is Kimiko still coming for dinner and a sleepover?”

  “Uh-huh. She should be here soon.” Robin flopped into a chair and Merlin sat, resting his chin on her knees as she stroked his head. “Can we make pizza? And watch movies and have popcorn?”

  “Sure.” The pizza would be Hawaiian. Not his favorite, but the girls loved it. There’d be a horsy movie for Robin and a girly one for Kimiko. Then the kids and Merlin would retire to Robin’s bedroom and the suite would echo with giggles and squeals until they finally fell asleep.

  Dave would treasure every minute, though the life he offered Robin couldn’t really compare with what her mom had going on. Not only was there Boots, but last Christmas, when Dave had given his daughter a dog, her mom had given her a baby brother. Not to mention, Jessie was now married to Evan.

  Evan. Robin’s biological father. A fact that no one knew except Dave, Evan, and of course Jessie.

  Evan was a good guy and a terrific stepfather—which was great for Robin, and should make Dave happy. It was petty to feel twinges of jealousy. Hell, it wasn’t a competition.

  He focused on his daughter. “Happy-face pancakes for breakfast?” Ever since she was tiny, she’d loved the pancakes with blueberries dotted into the batter to make smiley faces. He dreaded the day that she’d be too “cool” to eat them.