Which brought him back to the land that he needed.
"See the airfield?" he asked.
Bailey nodded.
"I want to expand the runway on the northern approach."
"I didn't even realize that was my grandfather's land. It's not near his house or the other family buildings."
"The land slopes up fairly quickly, but I only need the flat section that starts about a quarter-mile from the beginning of the current runway. I can't imagine there's any other use for it. It's right under the flight path, not very appealing for homes or other buildings."
"That's true. I wonder if he ever had a plan for it."
"I think it's more that he just can't bear to lose another inch of his land."
"Probably," she agreed. "Land is very important to him. We should go back now. I have to work at the diner tonight."
"You've got it."
After landing the helo a few minutes later, he walked Bailey out to her car, feeling an incredible reluctance to let her go. "Thanks for coming."
"I'm glad I did. The view was amazing. I can't believe I grew up here and never saw the town from that vantage point."
"Was it only the view that was amazing?" he said lightly.
"Fishing for compliments?"
"I like you, Bailey."
Surprise flashed across her face. "I like you, too."
"I sense there's a but coming… I hope it's not because I'm a Westbrook and you're a Tucker."
"Not really, although that won't make either of our families happy, but the real reason is that I don't know what I'm doing with my life, Ryder. Everything is up in the air, and I don't want to start something I can't finish."
Her words made a lot of sense, but they weren't ones he wanted to hear. "I get that, but I think we've already started, Bailey." He lowered his head and took another kiss, knowing he probably had only a split second before she got into her car and drove away.
Her lips were warm and sexy, and he wanted to linger. He wanted to take her home with him. But there was a part of him still able to hear warning bells, and that's what made him lift his head. She gave him an uncertain, somewhat yearning look, and he almost reached for her again.
But then she was opening her car door, and sliding behind the wheel, clearly determined to put some space between them. "Good-bye, Ryder."
"Not good-bye," he said firmly. "We still have a plan to execute."
"I'll talk to my grandfather tonight or tomorrow, but I can't promise I'll get you the answer you want."
"I understand." He shut the car door and stood back as she revved the engine and then pulled out of the lot.
He watched her drive away, feeling a sense of loss that shocked him. He didn't want her to leave Eagle's Ridge. He wanted them to have a chance to see what might happen between them. He'd left home to chase his dreams a long time ago, and he'd come back because he knew Eagle's Ridge was where he wanted to be. But Bailey still needed to figure out where she wanted to be and what she wanted to do. It wouldn't be fair or even smart to try to sway her. But he really wanted to…
So much for his single-minded focus on airport development.
Forcing himself to turn around, he headed back to the office.
After fifteen minutes of staring restlessly at his computer, completely unable to concentrate or think about anything but Bailey, he grabbed his keys and coat and walked out of his office.
While he was waiting for Bailey to talk to her grandfather, he would take another shot at the Westbrooks and the Founder's Day celebration. It was a long shot, but there was a slim chance he might get lucky.
* * *
Ryder entered his grandfather's house a little before five, surprised to hear laughter and voices in what was usually a very quiet household. In the living room, he found not only his mother but also his aunt, Catherine Garrison, and his great-aunt, Margaret Garrison, who was his grandfather's younger sister. Catherine was married to Margaret's son Ben.
With his family was one of Eagle Ridge's most eccentric characters, the silver-haired Hildie Fontana, who ran Hildie's House, and was the main resource for anyone who wanted memorabilia or gossip.
"Is that Ryder?" Hildie asked, her unusually expressive eyebrows twitching as she gave him an appraising look. "I think you've gotten taller and even more handsome, if that's possible."
"And you've gotten even more beautiful," he returned.
Her eyes beamed with pleasure. "Well, it's good someone around here finally noticed," she said with a laugh.
His gaze swept the rest of the group, and he said hello to his aunt and great-aunt. There weren't any hugs exchanged—Westbrooks were not a hugging kind of family.
Catherine looked amazing as always, wearing tailored pants and a silky blouse, her dark-blonde hair pulled back in a bun. His mother matched her sister-in-law for style with a slim black skirt, high heels and a cardigan sweater. Margaret had also dressed for style in a dark-red knit dress and heels that made her look far younger than her eighty-eight years.
"So, what's going on around here?" he asked.
"Founders' Day weekend, of course," Hildie replied. "We're just finalizing our plans for Friday's more civic-minded events, with the parade and speeches from city leaders as well as the unveiling of a new John Westbrook statue in front of City Hall."
"Grandfather is getting another statue?" he asked in surprise. "Aren't there already three or four around town?"
"This one is being done by a renowned sculptor," his mother said. "The other ones really don't do John justice."
He decided not to argue her point, because he had more important battles to fight. "Okay. So, I'm glad you're all here. I wanted to make a suggestion about this weekend."
Four pairs of expectant eyes focused on him, wariness in their gazes.
He took a breath and jumped in. "What if we combine the Friday activities that are solely related to Grandfather and combine those with the weekend events? Make it one big weekend for all four founders, instead of two separate events. We can put an end to this ridiculous feud once and for all."
"I've told you before that won't work," his mother said quickly. "I don't know why you think it would, Ryder."
"Because it's time for the town to come together."
"This is about your runway again, isn't it?" his mother said with a long-suffering sigh. "It's not going to happen, Ryder. Your grandfather won't go for it, so it's a non-starter. You need to let it go."
"It's not just about a new runway; it's about bringing this town together. Aren't you all tired of having two sides to everything? If I could convince Grandfather, would the rest of you be willing to change up the events to include all the founders?"
"You'll never convince him," his mom said.
"But if I could…"
His mother gave a helpless shrug, looking at the others. "What do you all think?"
"I'd love to combine the events," Hildie said. "But I think you'd be pulling off a miracle if you could make that happen, Ryder."
"I agree. I don't believe my brother will change his mind," Margaret put in. "He's ninety-five years old, and he's only changed his mind about three times in his entire life. I don't think we're going to get number four. He hates the Tuckers with every fiber of his being."
His gut tightened at that comment, a reminder that any relationship with Bailey was going to be complicated. He turned to his aunt. "What about you, Aunt Catherine?"
His aunt shrugged. "Honestly, it doesn't matter to me, Ryder. One weekend of events for everyone would be fine, but otherwise, I'm happy to do it the way we've always done it."
"Will Ford be coming into town?" he asked. If he could get his cousin on his side, that might help.
"I doubt it," his aunt said harshly. "He always has a million reasons why he can't come home."
"Nonsensical reasons," Margaret muttered. "That boy needs to own up to his responsibilities to this family."
"Getting back to our meeting," his mother interrupted. "I also
wanted to talk about next Tuesday night—John's private birthday dinner."
"What's the plan for this year?" he asked.
"Your grandfather wants to stay home," his mother replied. "He won't admit it, but ever since he had that bad cold in the beginning of February, he's had a lot less energy. The weekend events will take a lot out of him, so we will have a catered family dinner. The problem is that we had Patrick Markham from Seattle lined up to fly in and cook for us, but he's under the weather, and now he can't make it. I'm worried that there's not enough time for us to get someone else to Eagle's Ridge."
"What about one of the restaurants here in town?" he asked. "Couldn't a local chef cater this dinner?"
"None of them are fancy enough," Margaret said. "It has to be special."
"I agree," his aunt interjected. "But I don't know what we're going to do. I already tried Victoria Hunt from Palermo's in Spokane. She said she's been booked for months and good luck trying to get anyone with this short of notice."
As the women continued to discuss their options, an idea took root in his head. They needed a chef and Bailey was one of the best. But if he put her name out, they'd immediately dismiss her out of hand. Maybe there was a way he could slide her in under the radar. If she cooked her fantastic food for his grandfather's birthday, it would be a good start to easing tension between the families and maybe…just maybe…he could talk to his grandfather about renting Veronica's to Bailey, give her a chance to have her own restaurant.
It was another long-shot idea. There seemed to be no shortage of them these days. And he didn't even know if Bailey's impulsive thought the night before was really something she wanted to do, but he'd sure love to give her a reason to consider staying in Eagle's Ridge, and this might be it. He'd seen the yearning in her eyes when she'd looked at the shuttered-up building the night before. She'd pictured a bustling restaurant with her at the helm, and he liked that picture.
"Why don't you let me take care of this?" he suggested, his interruption bringing more questioning looks.
"You?" his mother echoed in surprise. "What are you going to do?"
"Make some calls. I know some chefs who might be interested."
"Like who?" she asked.
"Look, you're always telling me you want me to get more involved and help out," he said. "Let me do this. I promise you will not be disappointed. Dinner will be perfect."
The four women exchanged glances, then his mother finally said, "All right, I suppose so. But don't screw this up, Ryder. It's your grandfather's ninety-fifth birthday. It has to be great."
"It will be great. Don't worry another second about it. If you'll excuse me, I better get started making those calls." As he left the room, he let out a breath, wondering what on earth he'd just gotten himself into.
Now he just needed to convince Bailey to do him another favor…or he was going to have to find another chef and fast!
Ten
"You want me to do what?" Bailey asked in shock as Ryder confronted her when she was leaving the diner a little past eight o'clock that night.
She hadn't expected to see him again so soon. In fact, after she'd left the airport, she'd told herself that putting some distance between herself and Ryder would be a good idea.
It wasn't just kissing him on the mountain that had shaken her up; it was also how close she'd felt to him after he'd talked to her about his brother, shared a part of himself she had never known. Hearing about how he'd grown up with parents who'd shut down emotionally after the loss of their oldest son had touched her heart. No wonder Ryder had had to be perfect. He'd been trying to make up for so much and what a tremendous amount of pressure to always be under. But she couldn't let herself get so caught up in Ryder that she lost track of her own life.
But now that he was standing in front of her with a gleam of excitement in his eyes, after having laid out one of the worst plans she'd ever heard, she realized that Ryder was not going away any time soon, and she was both happy and worried about that.
"It's perfect," Ryder said. "You cook for my grandfather, and then I talk to him about letting the amazing chef, who dazzled him with her culinary genius, lease Veronica's and open a new restaurant. You could make it into whatever you want it to be."
"But—but even if he agreed, it still might be too expensive. I'd also need money to decorate and buy supplies—there's just so much that goes into opening a restaurant. How could I possibly do it?" She walked a few steps away from him and rested her hands on the rail overlooking the river. The water was swirling below, and it mirrored her emotions exactly.
"You could do it," Ryder said, coming up next to her. "I'll help you."
"You don't know anything about opening a restaurant."
He smiled and tipped his head. "Good point, but I know talent, drive, and determination when I see it, and you have all three."
"I cooked you one meal," she protested.
"It wasn't just that meal. I've heard how good you are."
"And how bad."
"Those were lies—we both know that. You can do this, Bailey. I know you can."
His belief in her was amazing, but she couldn't quite trust it. "You just want me to help you get your runway. You'll say anything to get me on your side, but I already told you I'd help you."
"Which is exactly why this has nothing to do with the runway," he said forcefully. "I saw your face last night when you looked at Veronica's. You were putting together your own restaurant in your head. You sat on the patio and looked out at the water and saw your future, didn't you?"
She drew in a breath and let it out. "Maybe I saw the possibility of a future. But your grandfather is not going to let me rent that building even if I make him an amazing birthday dinner. As soon as he finds out it's me, that will be the end of that."
"It's worth a shot, Bailey, and it's just one dinner to make. Why not take the chance?"
"You seem awfully invested in this," she commented.
"It's the perfect opportunity for you to shine and for us to take another step toward breaking down the feud between our families. Plus, you can't say no, because I already told my mother I'd find a chef for the birthday dinner."
"Who was going to do it?"
"Some chef from Seattle, who got sick."
"If I say no, you're in a mess of trouble."
He gave her the smile that made her stomach flutter. "Yes. Don't say no."
"How are you going to keep my identity a secret? I'll need to know what he likes and doesn't like—if he has any allergies, that kind of thing. And where am I going to cook the dinner? I'd rather do it at his house, if that's where the celebration is." Her gaze narrowed. "I thought you said you were the type of person who plans things out."
"Well, this time I acted spontaneously. The dinner will be at his house. There's a back entrance to the kitchen. I think I can keep everyone out except Leticia and the servers, and they won't care. It will work. If you say yes, I'll make it happen."
It was almost impossible to consider saying no to his request. He was so excited about his idea; it was just one dinner, and it wasn't like she was so busy she couldn't help him out. "Well, it would be kind of fun to dazzle your grandfather and your family with my cooking skills."
"Wouldn't it?"
"All right. I'll do it. But you're going to have to find out what kind of food your grandfather and your family is expecting."
"I'll do some reconnaissance work tomorrow. So, you're on board?"
"I'm on board," she said, startled again when he wrapped his arms around her in a happy hug.
She couldn't help but hug him back and when he lifted his head, she was the one who took it one step further, planting a long and needy kiss on his lips. She was starting to feel like she was addicted to his taste, to his touch, to everything about him.
"What the hell! Bailey?"
She broke away from Ryder at the sound of a familiar and shocked male voice and found herself staring straight into her brother Adam's blue eyes.
"You and…and Westbrook?" Adam said, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just witnessed. "What's going on?"
"We're…" She really couldn't come up with an explanation for what was going on, so she settled with one lame word. "Friends."
"A little more than that actually," Ryder put in.
She shot him a dark look. "That's not helpful."
"How long has this been going on?" Adam asked. "Is this why you came back, Bailey?"
"No. I came back because of a lot of reasons—none of which have to do with Ryder."
"Wait. I get it," Adam said, hostility in his gaze as he looked at Ryder. "This is about you wanting to get Tucker land for the runway. Zane told me about your idea. You're using Bailey."
"I'm not using her," Ryder said sharply.
"He's not using me," she echoed, seeing the alpha side of both of them begin to take hold as they each straightened and stiffened and looked like they were ready to do battle. They might both be out of the service, but they were still warriors. "He's not," she repeated firmly, stepping between them and breaking the hard gaze they had going on. "Ryder has been completely up front about what he wants and I've agreed to help him get Grandpa to listen to his plans. The runway expansion would help your business, Adam. It would be great for the town."
"He knows all that," Ryder said with annoyance.
"I do know all that," Adam retorted. "What I still don't know is why you're messing around with my sister."
"I kissed him," she said.
"I thought you had a guy in New York," Adam said.
"Well, I don't. I'm single and free to kiss whoever I want, wherever I want."
"But he's a Westbrook."
"You and Zane are friends with him, aren't you?"
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