Mountain Country Cowboy

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Mountain Country Cowboy Page 11

by Glynna Kaye


  But he’d misunderstood everything. Had planted doubts in her mind.

  I can’t buy that following this passion you say you have is the payment He’s exacting from you to spare your mom’s life.

  Who was he to make a judgment like that? But his words troubled her the next few days although neither spoke of it as they teamed up on trail rides, evaluated the new offerings, welcomed Gypsy’s daughter into the world and continued Joey’s riding lessons. It was evident that the youngster was a born horseman, just like his father.

  “Did you and Cash have a falling out?” Her mom, pulling a Sunday breakfast casserole out of the oven as Rio poured the orange juice, glanced inquisitively in her direction.

  Caught off guard at the abrupt change in subject—they’d been discussing when her older sisters, Claire and Bekka, might be coming for a visit—she frowned. “What makes you think that?”

  “You haven’t mentioned him for days, and he’s usually a topic of our mealtime conversations.”

  Had she talked about him that much recently? So much so that when she didn’t it was noticeable?

  “I wouldn’t say we had a falling out.” She retrieved the sliced cantaloupe and honeydew from the fridge. “Not exactly, anyway. More like a difference of opinion.”

  “Not surprising there would be some of that.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re both independent, headstrong young people who butted heads as kids. Both like to be boss. But I sense you have an interest in him. True?”

  “Who, me?” Interested in a man who’d shot down the sliver of hope for her mother’s healing that she’d clung to since last fall? And surely her mother wasn’t suggesting a man with Cash’s history—despite his denials—as a possible love interest for a daughter who’d gone through what she had.

  “I don’t hear you denying that your childhood crush may linger on.”

  Rio laughed as she pulled a spatula from a kitchen drawer. “What crush? Cash and I were foes from the word go.”

  Mom smiled. “You had the biggest crush on him. Followed him around. Got in his way. Teased and poked and prodded him into noticing you any way you could.”

  “Reality check here, Mom.” She self-consciously rearranged the dishes on the red-and-white-checked tablecloth, aware that her mother was watching her with undisguised amusement. “He locked me in a closet, remember? That traumatized me for weeks. He’d send me off on wild-goose chases to find things for him that didn’t exist. Would hide from me. Convinced me, like something out of Tom Sawyer, that cleaning out the slobbery gunk in the bottom of feed buckets was fun and he’d let me do his share because I was so special. He made my life miserable.”

  “And you kept coming back for more. Moped around like a lost puppy for weeks after he and his family left.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Nevertheless, I stand by my recollections of your childhood years from four to seven.”

  “What are you two bickering about?” Her father joined them in the kitchen, beelining for the one-cup coffeemaker.

  “Mom’s having a memory lapse,” she teased. “Chemo brain—isn’t that what you’ve been calling it, Mom?”

  Her mother shook her head as she set the casserole on a trivet. “Your daughter is in denial. Claims she’s never had a crush on Cash.”

  “Sure she has a crush on him.” He fished in a cupboard for his favorite coffee mug. “I think there’s more than a bit of the same coming from his direction, too. Grady says he thinks it’s making Brax nervous.”

  “Dad! We’re talking about when Cash and I were kids.”

  “Oh?”

  “I didn’t have a crush on him then, and I don’t have a crush on him now.”

  “Cash this, Cash that.” He playfully bumped his wife’s arm with his. Gave her a kiss on the cheek. “She always finds a way to wedge him or his kid into the conversation no matter the topic, doesn’t she, Elaine?”

  “I do not.”

  “Then you’d better let Anna know you don’t want him,” Dad teased. “She’s smitten, and I’m sure she’d be more than happy to take him off your hands.”

  Fortunately, Rio’s parents mercifully ceased the badgering and they settled into breakfast peaceably enough. She made sure, though, that she didn’t mention Cash one single time.

  That wasn’t easy, considering the measureable progress he was making with Wild Card, the extensive repairs he was overseeing and how well Joey was coming along with Misty. It had been a relief to discover the boy wasn’t so much afraid as he was unaccustomed to the big animals. When she’d asked him the first day she met him if he liked horses as much as his dad did, he’d said he didn’t know. That had been the truth, not evasion.

  They were clearing the table when her dad’s cell phone rang. He glanced down at the caller ID and raised a brow.

  “Interesting. Must have gotten their time zones confused to be calling this early.” People elsewhere always forgot Arizona didn’t go on daylight saving time. “But Sunday morning? Guess I’d better take this. See what’s up.”

  With no further explanation, he headed for the French doors and stepped onto the back deck, his voice a hearty welcome. “What may I do for you this fine morning?”

  He pulled the doors closed behind him.

  Mom gave her an “it beats me” shrug. “Honey, let me clean up here. I know you were wanting to spend time with Gypsy and her foal before church.”

  It was Cash’s turn to oversee things this morning, but she needed to check on Muffin. That’s what Joey had named the filly because he’d been eating one when word of her birth reached him. So Rio worked his suggestion into what would become the newcomer’s official registered name with the American Quarter Horse Association. Gypsy’s Blueberry Muffin.

  She’d just arrived at the barn, her thoughts drifting to what Grady had told her mother about Cash’s alleged interest in her, when Eliot stopped by.

  “You’re looking mighty fine this morning, Rio.”

  “Thanks.” She’d dodged his attentions in past summers, but he’d been unusually persistent recently. Popping up when she’d least expected it. Complimenting what she was wearing. Doing. Oftentimes lingering longer than she had time for. Like this morning when she needed to check on the mare and foal and get back to the house to get ready for church.

  Eliot followed her to Gypsy’s stall where she slipped inside, his voice taut. “I want you to know I don’t care much for the scheduling changes Herrera’s making.”

  “Why? What’s the problem?” Wishing he’d go away, she kept her back to him while grooming the mare. That Eliot would find something to object to when it came to Cash wasn’t that surprising.

  “That breakfast ride, for one thing. If he wants to head up those, that’s his business. But I’d rather sit at a table and down my gravy and biscuits like a civilized human being. Not squat in front of a smoky campfire at the crack of dawn with a bunch of clowns who don’t know one end of a horse from the other.”

  “Come on, now, don’t speak of our guests like that, Eliot.”

  “You know what I mean. If Herrera’s so keen on this sunrise business, he can roll himself out of his nice warm bed and take care of it himself.”

  “He’s doing his fair share on that shift. More than his share. And don’t forget, I agreed to the changes, too. We’re trying out new things to see what appeals to our clients.”

  “Clients? Is that one of the big fancy words he picked up from that snobby dude ranch I suspect he got fired from? You may not think it’s my business, Rio, but that guy is—”

  “Standing right behind you,” Cash finished evenly, and a startled Eliot spun to face him.

  He’d startled her, too.

  “Cash,” Eliot acknowledged, his tone on the surly side.

  “You didn
’t have to sign on for the breakfast rides. I told you that right from the beginning.”

  “I heard you. But I didn’t want the others feeling stuck with the rooster shift.” He said that as if he were protecting them from Cash’s poor judgment.

  “That’s considerate of you, but it’s their choice, too. We’re running that specialty ride until we determine if folks think it’s worthwhile. If the rides don’t prove to be popular, don’t generate the expected increase in income, then we’ll reevaluate. So your input is important and will be taken into consideration like everyone else’s.”

  Covertly watching the two of them as she groomed the tiny foal, Rio couldn’t help but admire Cash’s handling of the disgruntled man. Her earlier concerns regarding his temper and a possible inability to manage the people side of the horse operation now seemed to be unfounded. As men went, Cash had a lot going for him.

  Except that he’d chosen to diminish the promise she’d made to God those many months ago.

  With a parting snort Eliot all but stomped off, and she moved to the stall door. “You handled that well.”

  “Nothing I do makes that man happy, does it?”

  “His happiness isn’t your responsibility.”

  “No, but bad attitudes can rub off. I don’t want him poisoning the others, making them dissatisfied and thinking we don’t have a clue what we’re doing.” He tilted his head, a faint smile surfacing. “And just for the record, I wasn’t fired from the snobby dude ranch. When I landed this job, they graciously waived a two-week notice since trail riding is closed in the heat of summer.”

  “I didn’t think you’d been fired. But Eliot’s a black-and-white kind of guy. If you’d have told him from the get-go that the breakfast rides were a done deal, he’d probably not have said much. But by our calling them a test run? He sees that as a sign of weakness, indecisiveness. So he’s going to challenge it.”

  Cash leaned a shoulder against the stall’s door frame. “I fully expect the breakfast rides to be a success.”

  “I agree. I think the fact that the rides are quickly filling up is indicative of that. Don’t let someone like Eliot make you question your judgment. You have good instincts, Cash.”

  He gave her an uncertain smile, no doubt remembering how an earlier conversation had ended when she’d opened her heart to him. Not the greatest of instincts exhibited there, perhaps.

  He drew a breath. “Rio, about that night...”

  Her phone vibrated and she held up her hand to halt him, pulling the device from her pocket. “My dad.”

  “Better take it.” He stepped back to give her some privacy.

  She listened intently to her father, beckoning to Cash to remain where he was. When the call concluded, she slipped the phone back into her pocket. Then, still stunned at what her father had shared, she turned to Cash.

  “You’re not going to believe this.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Tallington Associates. They’ve changed their minds and will be coming to evaluate the Hideaway after all. Five days from now.”

  * * *

  “Call it quits, Rio.” Cash stood in the doorway of the main barn’s tack room, where she was almost frantically rearranging bridles and other tack just-so. “It’s two in the morning. Nothing we do now is going to make a difference in what happens tomorrow. Or I guess I should say today.”

  He was tired and edgy himself, but somehow chastising her gave him a sense of control over his own raw nerves.

  “I know, but I hadn’t noticed until a bit ago that the kids hadn’t gotten things put back the way they should have after the last ride today.” She pulled a bridle from its wall mount and untangled the reins. “I guess tomorrow’s visit has them skittish, too.”

  “More likely it was the dance in town tonight that occupied their thoughts. They’ll have rushed their chores to have time to get cleaned up.”

  “I forgot about that. While none of them are drinkers, it may be a late night, so we’ll have to keep an eye on them come morning. They may not be at their best.”

  He took the bridle from her hands, acutely conscious of his fingers brushing hers, and hooked it above a saddle. “Give it up, Rio. This is a barn. They’re not going to expect it to meet five-star hotel standards.”

  She looked up at him with weary eyes. “For which I’m thankful. And I’m grateful that your insistence on being proactive about the horse operation helped us also override Uncle Doug’s mind-set on the overall direction of the property.”

  Cash chuckled. “I think he was genuinely disappointed to give up that indoor pool and award-winning chef.”

  “You can count on it. But while we may not have come close to getting the things done that we’d hoped to, at least we’re going into this with our heads held high and knowing genuine hospitality in a rustic setting is a good thing.”

  “The Hideaway has lots going for it. Tallington, if they’re a company we want to do business with, will see that.”

  She stifled a yawn. “Do you think we stand a chance, Cash? Honestly? We’re like nothing else they have featured on their website. You noticed that right from the beginning. And although I resented hearing it, that’s an important factor.”

  “It’s their loss if they don’t recognize the uniqueness of what we offer here. We’ll turn right around and find ourselves another interested company. It’s a win-win situation.”

  “I wish I had your confidence.” She righted a saddle on a rack. Picked up a dropped hoof pick. Then she stepped back to survey the room.

  “Is everything now ordered to suit you?” he teased.

  She sighed. “Probably as good as it’s going to get, huh?”

  “Good. Then I’ll walk you to your folks’ place and we’ll both call it a night.”

  “Thanks, but you don’t need to do that. I have a flashlight on my key chain. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’d normally say suit yourself, but not this time.” He motioned to the open tack room door. “After you, pretty lady.”

  “Pretty lady? At this hour? You have quite the imagination.” She made a face, but even with that silliness, with strands of matted hair escaping a drooping ponytail and a smudge on her cheek, she looked pretty enough to him.

  “Good thing Joey’s bunking at Anna’s since it’s such a late night. Let’s get you home and tucked in, too.”

  “Cash, there’s no need for you to—”

  She abruptly halted as he folded his arms in an uncompromising stance. Apparently she was too tired to argue any further, for with another sigh she flipped off the tack room light and stepped into the dim aisle between the stalls. Outside they moved off into the trees where the trail became more shadowed. When he reached out to guide her with a light touch to her arm, she pulled away and switched on her flashlight.

  While they’d burned the midnight oil side by side the past several days, there hadn’t been much time for casual chitchat. They’d certainly not returned to the topic of the vow she’d shared with him, and he figured he’d get his head bit off if he attempted to talk about it anyway. Had he handled that wrong? Should he have let her keep thinking that her mother’s healing depended on her ability to keep her promise? He’d wrestled with that for days, knowing she’d expected more of him. That he’d let her down. And that left his heart aching.

  They said little as they traversed the trail, skirting around the edge of the darkened main parking lot, now empty except for vehicles belonging to overnight guests.

  A few more hours and the sun would rise once again, a new day dawning with Tallington Associates expected on their doorstep early. Was he right in encouraging the Hunters to continue to play up the rustic, woodsy atmosphere of the Hideaway? To emphasize its cabin country heritage that was over a hundred years old? Admittedly, it didn’t fit the mold of the other properties Tallin
gton booked for small group events. So would he be way off the mark and today’s visit a disappointing disaster the family could lay at his feet?

  The tension in his shoulders tightened.

  “Something on your mind?” Her words came softly, the crunch of their boots on the trail the only sound in the still night.

  He hadn’t groaned out loud, had he? “I guess something just hit me like a proverbial ton of bricks.”

  “What?” He sensed her looking at him curiously, although, like hers, his face would be in shadow.

  “Who am I to be advising Hunters on how to present the Hideaway to Tallington? And why did they listen to me? I’m a cowboy whose primary calling card is six months in the county jail and three years working at a dude ranch. Neither of which have a whole lot to do with a place like Hunter’s Hideaway.”

  She poked him in the arm. “They listened to you, cowboy, because you voiced—confirmed—what they believe deep down inside and what Uncle Doug has had them doubting.”

  “You think?”

  “Of course. You gave our signature rustic vibe a legitimate promotional spin. Pushed us beyond the dangers of ‘we’ve always done it this way’ to dig deeper and pull out handfuls of gold.”

  “I did?”

  “And you did it when we thought Tallington was a lost cause. Now that they’re back in the picture, we’re in a position to present ourselves unapologetically. While they may not go for it, like you said, they aren’t the lone game in town.”

  Her words soothed his ragged nerves. The last few days had been intense. Not only his cramming a summer’s worth of repair work and painting into a matter of days, but the rest of the family had gotten fired up to freshen the landscaping, top up the crushed rock in the parking lots, clean everything top to bottom, and restain the logs of the main buildings. Grady’s artistic, techy wife, Sunshine, had even updated the website to incorporate their newest motto.

 

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