A Cowboy's Kiss

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Although traditionally made with mutton or lamb, the GG version of Irish stew featured beef. Michael had bowed to the preferences of the residents of cowboy country. Consequently, his stew had become a hit.

  Just shy of four in the afternoon, the Guzzling Grizzly was quiet. Luke walked in and found Michael behind the bar, preparing for the Saturday night crowd.

  He flashed Luke his usual cheerful smile. “Got your order right here.” He reached over the polished wooden surface and shook Luke’s hand. “Where’s Delilah?”

  “Guarding the truck.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve been reading up on border collies and they’re happiest when they have a job. They like to feel useful.”

  “Don’t we all. It’s so cool that you get to keep her.”

  “Sure is.”

  “Hey, I’m implementing what we talked about but I have a couple of questions. Got time next week?”

  “You bet. Wednesday?”

  “Better not. That’s Valentine’s Day and we’ll be busy.”

  “So it is.” And he hadn’t come up with something for Abby, yet. “How about Thursday?”

  “Thursday works. Can you make it before we open, like ten-thirty?”

  “I can do that.” He took out his phone and added the appointment to his calendar. “I need to start thinking about Valentine’s Day.”

  “Got a great dinner menu planned for that night.” Michael lifted the bag of food onto the counter. “But if you decide on takeout, be sure and get your name on the list by Monday.”

  “I will. Thanks.” He took cash from his wallet. “I don’t think Abigail’s tried the stew yet. I think she’ll really like it.”

  “Hope so.” Michael rang up the purchase. “Have a great weekend.”

  Luke smiled. “Planning on it.”

  Abby was ready with a small duffel, a loaf of bread to go with the stew and oatmeal raisin cookies for dessert. He couldn’t wait to get her out to his house. And—might as well admit it—into his bed.

  Once she was in the truck with Delilah sandwiched between them, his world was complete. He backed out of the parking space.

  She took an appreciative sniff. “Something smells delicious.”

  “It’s me. New cologne. Guaranteed to get the ladies hot.”

  “Is it called Eau de Irish Stew?”

  “Matter of fact, it is.”

  “Perfect choice. I’ve been wanting to try the GG’s new special.” She wrapped an arm around Delilah and kneaded her fingers in the dog’s ruff. “Hey, doggie. It’ll be fun going to your house for a change.”

  “I told her we were changing the venue and she’s almost as happy about having you come out to the house as I am.”

  “I have you both beat. I’m the happiest of all. You two have a great place. I can’t wait to see how the living room looks with the refinished floor and the furniture in there.”

  “It’s a definite improvement. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to eat in there instead of using the dining room.”

  “Works for me. And FYI, I have a business issue I’m dying to discuss.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll wait until we have a glass of wine for toasting.”

  “Sounds promising.”

  She glanced over at him and smiled. “It is. Extremely promising.”

  “Can’t wait to hear about it. The fire’s laid, so we could have some wine while the stew’s heating. Then you can tell me your promising idea.” If she’d come up with another way to increase revenue, so much the better. “Does it have to do with sandwiches?”

  “No.”

  “Soup?”

  “No. I doubt you’ll guess it, although it’s obvious. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

  “Now I’m really curious.” And encouraged that she seemed to be thinking like a businesswoman.

  He pulled up in front of the house and they hurried inside. After feeding Delilah and putting the stew on to warm, they settled in front of the fire with glasses of wine. Delilah finished her dinner and joined them, curling up on her favorite rag rug.

  Abby gazed around the room. “Very nice. The floor looks beautiful.”

  “Getting the furniture back in here made a big difference, too.” He turned toward her. “Okay. Let’s hear your idea.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “You’ll love it.”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  “Well.” She scooted around and tucked one foot under her so she was facing him. “We get along really great.”

  “We do.” He smiled because she was clearly excited about this.

  “And we have skills that complement each other. I’m a terrific baker and you’re a terrific business manager.”

  “Also true.”

  “But running the business isn’t my strength.”

  “Not yet, but you’ve made a lot of progress. Pretty soon you’ll be comfortable wearing both hats.”

  “But I don’t have to.” She could barely sit still and her face glowed with eagerness. “Not if I have a business partner who can wear one of them.”

  His stomach bottomed out. Maybe he’d misunderstood. He hoped to God he had. “Are you talking about me?”

  “Of course, silly!”

  “Oh, Abby.”

  She looked as if he’d slapped her. “What do you mean saying oh, Abby like that? Like you wish I hadn’t said it.”

  “I wish you hadn’t.”

  “Why? It’s a logical progression! We’d make a great team! We’d…” She gulped and fell silent. “You hate it.”

  “I don’t hate it.” He reached over and took her hand. “But it’s not for me.”

  “Why not? We work well together. You could handle the finances and marketing and I could handle the baking. We’d each be capitalizing on what we do best!”

  “I have my own business.”

  “But you just got started. And you could still do that on the side while we—”

  “No, Abby. I worked in the food industry before. That’s not my dream. I want to travel, to help business owners all over the state, maybe use Badger Air if I get clients who are too far away to justify driving.”

  She was heartbroken. Everything about her telegraphed it—slumped shoulders, trembling hands, shallow breathing.

  “Abby, I’m so sorry.” He rubbed her cold hand. “I’ll do everything I can to help you create a system to handle your business, but I don’t want to handle it for you. I don’t even believe in that. You need to know what’s going on. That gives you power.”

  Her gaze was that of a wounded animal. “I don’t want power. I want you.”

  “You can have me. Just not as a business partner.” He’d blown her out of the water. He hated that, but he couldn’t go along with her plan. It wasn’t fair to either of them. He needed to teach her how to handle the business on her own. “Tell you what. Let’s have some dinner. Later I can boot up my computer and show you a spreadsheet that would be great for—”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Oh, boy. “Abby, I’m sorry. I know you’re disappointed, but—”

  “Since you’re not interested in being my business partner, the best thing you can do for me right now is take me home.”

  “Abby…”

  “No, really, Luke. I was so sure you’d go for this and…I need time. Please take me home.”

  Kendra had been right. She was rejecting his advice, and him along with it. And he couldn’t figure out a single way to stop it. “Okay.” First he smothered the fire as best he could. It would have to do. At the last minute, he remembered to turn off the stove. Then he fetched their coats and got Delilah’s leash. “Come on, pup. We’re going for a ride.”

  The dog took her time getting up from her cozy spot on the rug.

  “I’m sorry, Delilah.” Abby walked over and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “But I wouldn’t be very good company tonight.”

  The trip back was silent except for the breath
ing of two people and a dog. Luke reached for the knob on the radio and pulled his hand back. Music wasn’t going to help.

  Nothing was going to help unless he agreed to be her business partner. He couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be good for him and it would be terrible for her.

  Outside the door to her apartment building, he told Delilah to guard the truck while he walked Abby to the door. “We’ll work this out.” He said it as much to reassure himself as to comfort her.

  “I hope so, Luke.” Her expression was bereft as she looked up at him.

  “Take some time. Call me when you’re ready to talk.”

  She nodded, although she hadn’t exactly agreed to call him. “See you later.”

  He waited as she unlocked the deadbolt and pushed on the door. It didn’t open.

  “Here, let me—”

  “I’ve got it.” She rammed it with her shoulder. Didn’t budge. “Stupid door!”

  “Abby, stand back. I’ll get it.”

  “Thanks.” Scowling, she crossed her arms and moved away from the door.

  Luke took hold of the knob, braced his shoulder against the door and shoved hard. The door banged open and he stumbled into the entryway as Roxanne appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Luke! What the hell?” Roxanne stared at him in confusion. “Where’s Abigail?”

  “I’m here.” She came in behind him. “I couldn’t get the door open.”

  Ingrid came up behind Roxanne. “What are you guys doing here? You’re supposed to be at Luke’s house.”

  “Long story,” Abigail said.

  “Where’s Delilah?”

  “In the truck.” Luke tipped his hat. “’Night ladies.” He turned to Abby. “Stay in touch.” And he walked out the door, closing it behind him.

  He climbed behind the wheel and waited until his breathing slowed before turning the key. He desperately needed to swear a blue streak, but that would only upset Delilah. She already looked worried as hell.

  He scrubbed a hand over her head. “It’ll work out, girl.” He wasn’t sure, but it was something to say. “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Abigail took a deep breath and glanced up at her friends. “You’re probably wondering what’s going on.”

  “I sure am.” Roxanne looked concerned.

  “But if you don’t want to talk about it, we’ll understand,” Ingrid said.

  “On the other hand,” Roxanne said, “talking is very therapeutic. Venting to sympathetic listeners over a bottle of wine beats sobbing your eyes out in your lonely apartment. Just my two cents.”

  “Rox has a point. And wine.”

  “I don’t feel like sobbing. I feel like screaming.”

  “Then come up and scream,” Roxanne said. “We can take it.”

  “I won’t scream. But I wouldn’t mind venting, now that you mention it.” She locked the door and started up the stairs.

  “Venting is excellent when you’ve had a fight with your boyfriend,” Ingrid said.

  “Except we didn’t fight.” She might have raised her voice a time or two, but he never had.

  Roxanne looked puzzled. “Then what’s going on?”

  “What’s going on is that Luke, in his typically polite way, just tore my dream to shreds.”

  “Damn, girlfriend.” Roxanne wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her into the apartment. “You sound pissed.”

  “You would be, too, if the man you lo—” She gulped. “I mean like.”

  “No, you had it right the first time. You’re in love with him.” Roxanne turned to Ingrid. “Agreed?”

  “Definitely.”

  Abigail sighed. “Yeah, might as well admit it. I love the jerk, which makes it all worse.”

  “If he’s been a jerk to you, then he’s dead to me.” Ingrid handed her a tumbler full of wine. “Drink up and tell us all about it.”

  Over way too much wine, Abigail explained her great idea and Luke’s immediate dismissal of the concept. “I offered him a full partnership and he didn’t even have the courtesy to say he’d think about it. Or the good sense. It’s a great offer, right?”

  “It’s a great offer.” Ingrid refilled her wine glass. “But—”

  “But he can’t see that! I know!”

  “He already has a business, though,” Roxanne said.

  Ingrid nodded. “That’s what I was going to say.”

  “But he’s just starting it. It’s not like I’m asking him to give up something he’s thoroughly into.”

  Roxanne picked up her wine glass. “I’m probably the wrong person to comment. I love being a sole proprietor. I can’t imagine taking on a partner or worse yet, agreeing to be a partner in someone else’s business.”

  “I can see how you’d feel that way, but Luke already acts kind of like a partner in my business. We’ve worked together for several weeks, now.”

  “Not quite the same as being co-owners.” Roxanne took a sip of wine.

  “Maybe not, but I think it would work out well for both of us. Instead he said it wasn’t right for him and wasn’t right for me, either. How would he know?”

  Ingrid swirled the wine in her glass. “Maybe I had the wrong idea about why you hired him. I thought he was supposed to offer guidance so you could get a better handle on running the business.”

  “Well…yeah, but if he’s really good at that part, and I’m really good at the baking, then—”

  “Sweetie, that’s short-term thinking.” Roxanne put down her glass and leaned forward. “This may sound morbid, but what if he agreed to be your partner and then something happened to him?”

  Her insides twisted.

  “I can see you hate the thought and I don’t blame you. But delegating the business side to someone else leaves you vulnerable. You’d likely lose your bakery, too, because you wouldn’t know how to run it by yourself.”

  She stared into her wine glass. She of all people knew that life was unpredictable. Dealing with her grief after her parents’ death had been hard enough. Handling the details of wills and probate had been worse, in a way. It had dragged on for five long years because until then she’d kept herself blissfully ignorant of such matters.

  Before Luke had come into the picture, her business had been in dire straits for the same reason. She’d embraced blissful ignorance and made herself vulnerable.

  His advice and support had helped turn things around, but…Roxanne had a point, damn it. Which meant Luke might have one, too. Now there was a bitter pill.

  She glanced up at Roxanne. “The thought of creating a spreadsheet gives me hives.”

  “I’d offer to teach you, but I think you’d learn faster using the book I have. The explanations are super simple.”

  “Could I please borrow it for a little while?”

  “You bet.”

  A funny thing happened the next morning when Abigail took Roxanne’s book down to her office. Creating a spreadsheet on her computer gave her a thrill. She and Luke had organized her receipts into neat manila envelopes and she brought a stack of those down.

  Entering data took concentration and she messed up a few times, but Roxanne’s book helped her fix her mistakes. She hated to admit it, but turning the paper receipts into something she could scan at a glance was sort of cool.

  She worked all day and past her usual bedtime. The following day she used any spare moments to pop into her office and continue entering data.

  At closing time, Ingrid asked how things were going.

  “Not too bad. I wouldn’t say this is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “I can tell. But I think it’s great that you’re diving in.”

  She took a deep breath. “I need to. Until I talked with you guys, I just wasn’t getting it. This is my business, which means keeping track of the finances. I can’t hand that off.”

  “No, you can’t.” Ingrid gave her a hug. “Just remember that Roxanne and I are there for you if you need us.”

&n
bsp; “I know you are and that’s awesome. But I need to climb this mountain by myself.”

  “I understand.” She hesitated. “What about Luke?”

  “I’m still thinking.”

  “Gotcha. See you tomorrow, then.” She grabbed her coat and left.

  Luke. Abigail’s chest tightened. She missed everything about him. He had the best smile.

  And the best laugh. It could be either happy or toe-curling sexy depending on his mood. Sometimes he was teasing and sometimes tender. His joy when he’d found out Delilah would stay with him had been…epic.

  Then there was Delilah. That cute face, those expressive eyes. Her enthusiasm for life.

  What to do about Luke? Nothing for now. She had data to enter. Once again she worked past her usual bedtime and again throughout the day on Tuesday.

  After the bakery closed, she got a call from the hardware store. Delilah’s tag was ready. She’d completely forgotten ordering it.

  She picked up the red metal heart and then stood in the hardware store staring at it and blinking back tears. Delilah’s name was engraved on the front and Luke’s name and number were on the back.

  She’d intended it to be part of a Valentine’s gift—a big heart-shaped oatmeal raisin cookie for Luke and an identification tag for Delilah. He’d talked about getting her one so she’d never be lost again. Now what to do with it? Tucking it in her pocket, she went back to Pie in the Sky.

  That night she finished the data entry. She printed it out, two copies for added peace of mind. It was in the computer and on a backup drive. After all that work, she didn’t want to lose a single digit.

  Triumphant, she held the printed version in her hand. She’d done it, by God. She’d climbed the mountain and taken control of her finances. It was a huge victory.

  And hadn’t Luke promised it would be? Hadn’t he said she’d be happy once she’d accomplished this?

  He’d been right. And she’d been wrong. Humbling, indeed. Her misplaced anger had created the divide that separated them. Owning up to that wouldn’t be easy. She sighed. One challenge down, one to go.

  Valentine’s Day dawned clear and cold. The shop was crazy busy with all hands on deck, but she made sure that sales were recorded and inventory tracked. The new regime was in place. Ingrid’s Love at First Sight coffee drink brought in a boatload of money.