by Kim Redford
If she was going to do something, she was going to do it right, so she’d already started on a fresh website for Wildcat Hall Park. She planned to build a narrative about the origins and the fact that the dance hall had been in the same family since its inception. Of course, she’d make the copy clever, find old photographs from past years up to present day. She’d also promote upcoming dates for the performers with photographs to show the Hall was a place to enjoy food, drink, and music, as well as see and be seen.
She quickly sat down at the table and made a few more notes for the website. She needed better visuals to promote not only the honky-tonk but the cowboy cabins, too. She could probably take the shots herself. A website was already online, but it was basic and outdated in design. She definitely had her work cut out for her since she needed to continue her regular business websites, too. Still, she was glad of the work, because she wanted her mind, body, and time filled completely, or she might go off on a tangent and think about nothing except one tall, strong, hot cowboy named Slade Steele.
As she sat in front of her laptop screen with her fingers on the keyboard, contemplating clever copy, the front door opened and three tall, muscular, blond, blue-eyed folks stepped inside. They were identically dressed in crimson, long-sleeve T-shirts with the Wildcat Hall logo emblazoned on the front, Wranglers, and black cowboy boots.
“And just when did you plan to call us?” The woman in front held the wreath that had been on the door out from her body as if in disgust, then dropped it with a plop on top of a nearby table.
“Uhhh…you don’t like wreaths?” Ivy glanced from the object of scorn to the woman, then back again. How could a simple Christmas wreath manage to upset someone enough to be jerked off a door? And she’d thought folks in Wildcat Bluff were all friendly—obviously not so.
“Did you plan for us to keep going without a single word from you?” the man asked, sounding completely put out.
Ivy blinked several times, trying to bring the situation into some sort of focus, but it didn’t help one bit. She had no idea who these people were or why they were here. She looked them over, trying to make sense of the intrusion. They were a good-looking group that must be a family. The older two appeared to be in their fifties, while the younger one was about thirty or so. They radiated strength and competence with a no-nonsense attitude. She admired all that, but why did they hate her wreath enough to jerk it down and confront her?
“You do know who we are, don’t you?” the younger woman asked, putting her hands on her hips.
“No clue.” Ivy finally stood up, so they weren’t towering over her.
“No clue!” The man turned to look at the women, shaking his head. “She’s never heard of us.”
“But she needs us,” the younger woman said to the others.
Ivy stepped toward them, gesturing at a table with four chairs. “Perhaps you’d like to take a seat and explain why you’re here.”
“It’s not likely we have time to sit and chat, now is it?” the woman asked in a huff.
“Did Fern hire y’all for something?” When all reason failed, her sister was usually at the core of an issue, so Ivy would start there.
“We’re the Settelmeyer family,” the woman said. “I’m Lana. This is my husband, Claude. And that’s our daughter, Alicia.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Ivy quickly walked over and shook their hands. “How may I help you?”
“Better question is how we can help you,” Lana said matter-of-factly.
“It’s not like I don’t need help, but I’m not sure how you can do it.” Ivy gave the group a smile in hopes it would ease the tension in the room.
“We maintain Wildcat Hall Park,” Lana said, gesturing to her family.
“Inside and outside,” Alicia added.
“From the get-go, our family has worked here with the original family to keep this place in top form.” Claude gave a sharp nod of his head.
“Fern Bryant was mighty glad to continue our service,” Lana said. “When you took over, we figured you’d be just as glad to have us, but we didn’t hear from you.”
“I regret if there are any hard feelings over the situation.” Ivy tried another smile, but it appeared to fall as flat as the first one. “My sister didn’t tell me about you. I haven’t been here long enough to learn everything.”
“And now?” Lana glanced around the front bar room, as if expecting to see accumulated dirt and dust that needed tackling with a firm hand.
“Oh, yes,” Ivy said. “I’m delighted to meet you and to know that you’re already in place. I’ve got so much else to do that—”
“Who put up those decorations?” Alicia asked, appearing horrified as she pointed at the tinsel swags.
“I did,” Ivy said proudly, but she was careful not to look at the offending wreath. “I found them in a box in the storage room and thought they’d look festive out here.”
“They’re not in their proper places.” Alicia pointed at the antlers. “A Santa Claus hat goes on the antlers.”
“Always has,” Claude said with a frown.
“Not only that, but you’re three days early putting up Christmas decorations.” Lana fisted her hands on her hips. “If you don’t want things done right, we’re not the family for you. We keep a strict schedule here for what needs doing when it needs doing.”
“That way everything gets done properly without fuss or muss,” Alicia said with a defiant nod of her head.
“You didn’t tinker with the beer garden, did you?” Claude looked past Ivy toward the outside.
“No.” She mentally backtracked, realizing she was stepping on toes right and left. She hadn’t meant to insult them, particularly not since she needed them, but they came as a complete surprise—in a lot of ways. “I thought white lights in the trees would be pretty.”
“Blue,” Claude said. “That’s what we’ve always used, so that’s what we’ve got in storage.”
“Blue is good, too.” Ivy took a deep breath, wishing Fern had thought to tell her about the Settelmeyer family. With their attitude, they were obviously as much of an institution as Wildcat Hall itself.
“We don’t order drinks or food or bar stuff,” Lana said. “We don’t pick bands or schedule them.”
“That’s fine. I’ll take care of that.” Ivy smiled, trying to make peace by being as conciliatory as possible.
“But we’re pretty versatile,” Alicia added, finally returning a smile. “I mean, I can run into town on errands and pick up stuff if you need it.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the offer.”
“We’re the maintenance crew,” Claude said. “We know our jobs and we’ll do them without any instructions.”
“True.” Lana cocked her head with a smile. “And like Alicia said, we’re here to do whatever needs doing.”
“That’s good to know.” Ivy was relieved she seemed to be making positive progress with this family she desperately needed to run the place. “Right now, I’m not sure what needs doing, so I’ll be coming to all of you for advice.”
“That’s right smart of you,” Claude said. “We’ll help you any way we can. We treat Wildcat Hall Park like our own home.”
“And that means you’re one of ours, too.” Lana’s blue eyes twinkled as she smiled at Ivy. “We’ll take care of you as best we can.”
“Thanks. I may very well need it.” Now that they were warming to her, she was warming to them. “By the way, Slade Steele was here yesterday to help out. He’d like to put up more outdoor lights.”
“Good idea. I’ve been suggesting that for some time,” Claude said. “I know Slade. I’ll get with him about the lights.”
“Thanks.” Ivy was feeling better and better about the situation. This might actually work out. “Y’all are a big comfort to me. Fern pretty much dropped the Park in my lap with hardly a word about i
t.”
“She did leave in a rush,” Alicia said. “Is she okay? We’re all worried about her.”
“She got a new gig on a cruise line, but she’ll be back later.”
“Good to hear,” Lana said. “She’s an uplifting spirit for Wildcat Hall and everybody in the county.”
“We miss her.” Alicia gestured toward the dance hall. “She really livened up the place with her energy and glamour and music.”
Ivy realized with a sinking sensation that they were looking to her for what Fern had brought to their beloved Wildcat Hall. She couldn’t compete with energy, glamour, and music, but she did have a few skills of her own to offer. “I’m designing a new website for the Park. And I’m working with Slade to introduce new menu items for the holidays.”
“That’s good, real good,” Lana said, smiling. “Nowadays, we know businesses need a strong online presence.”
“And we haven’t had one, so that’s really good news.” Alicia appeared excited at the idea.
“Slade’s cooking is the best, so that works for me,” Claude said, glancing behind the bar at the row of bottles. “Maybe you can persuade him to part with some of his wine.”
“I’ll definitely try.”
“But let’s keep it on the quiet, so it’s all just for us.” Claude gave a deep chuckle from the bottom of his broad chest.
Ivy smiled at the joke that probably wasn’t a joke, feeling included in the inner circle of Wildcat Hall. It was a good feeling and that surprised her. Somehow, local folks kept drawing her deeper into their world, so much so that she wanted to do her best for them and make them happy. Maybe it was because everything was up close and personal here—nothing at arm’s length, like was so often the case in the city or online. She just kept being astonished that they accepted her so readily and that she fit in so easily. Could Fern have been right that she needed a change in life? Surely not…but then again, her sister had a way of seeing what others didn’t, at least not at first. She suddenly had an uneasy feeling when she remembered that she’d requested Peter to find a buyer, but maybe he wouldn’t be able to do it and that would get her off the hook.
“Anything special for us to do right now?” Lana asked, picking up the wreath and tucking it under one arm.
“Not that I know of,” Ivy said, “but that might not last long.”
“We’ve all got cell phones and we’ll leave our numbers.” Alicia walked behind the bar, pulled out a pad and pen, set them on the bar top, and wrote on the paper. She tapped her note with the tip of the pen. “Here you go. Night or day, if you need us, we’re there for you.”
“We don’t live far away,” Claude said. “We’re in a log cabin on acreage off Wildcat Road.”
“You’ll have to come for a visit sometime.” Lana gave a warm smile before she turned toward the front door.
“Yeah. Mom’s a great cook.” Alicia stripped the tinsel from the bar and wound it into a big loop. She glanced up at the antlers. “I’ll get that tinsel later.”
Ivy could only nod in agreement, not about to ever mention having had the nerve to put up unauthorized decorations.
“Never fear. We’ll put it all back proper when the time is right,” Claude said, turning toward the door.
“Got to get to work.” Alicia tossed a quick smile, then followed her parents as they headed out.
“Thanks,” Ivy called to their backs. “I look forward to working with y’all.”
Chapter 14
By the time Slade reached Wildcat Hall that evening, he was tired and disgruntled from his long day, but he figured just being with Ivy would lift his spirits. Claude had called him about installing more outdoor lighting, so he’d gladly turned that job over to him. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought to mention the Settelmeyer family to Ivy the day before, but he figured between the fire, Fernando, and Ivy herself, it had simply slipped his mind. The family was such a vital part of the Park that they were considered almost one and the same entity. He was glad she’d met the Settelmeyers and come to an agreement with them, because they’d be a huge asset to her handling the place.
He parked his truck close to the front door under the outside light. He was taking no more chances with possible intruders, so he was watching his back at all times. He hoped Ivy was being just as cautious. If he had his way, the Settelmeyer family would live in one of the cabins, but they deserved their own place on their own land, with their own cattle and horses, since otherwise they devoted their lives to Wildcat Hall Park.
Lights were on inside the honky-tonk, so he figured Ivy was there instead of in her cabin. He started to pick up the box of food he’d set on the front passenger seat, then stopped and decided to check with her first because what he had in mind might not suit her. First, he’d see what kind of day she’d had and what she felt like doing for the evening. He felt a spurt of pleasure at the thought of spending time with her, because she excited him and intrigued him and enticed him to want so much more from her.
After he locked the pickup door behind him, he hesitated, glancing around for anything out of place, sniffing the air for any hint of smoke, and tugging his jean jacket a little tighter since the nights had gotten cool. All appeared to be as it should, so he strode up to the front door and tried the handle. Fortunately, it was locked or he’d have fussed at her to be more careful. He smiled at the thought that he actually would chide her, even though they’d known each such a short time and it was something friends or family or lovers would do and accept as part of caring about each other.
With Ivy, time didn’t matter. It hadn’t mattered since that first moment they’d met and connected—time hadn’t stood still, as the old saying went, but it had merged into one ongoing stream that bound them together. At least, that was the way he felt, and he hoped she felt the same way.
He looked in the front window and saw her sitting at a table beside the bar, totally absorbed in her computer. Maybe he should fuss at her after all. Anybody could see her there, and she looked vulnerable in her distraction and being all alone in the big, empty dance hall.
He rapped several times on the front door, not too loudly, since he didn’t want to startle her, but enough to get her attention. He waited impatiently, anxious to hold her now that he was so close to her.
“Who’s there?” she called from the other side of the closed door.
“It’s me.”
“Slade, you startled me.”
“I tried not to, but you were distracted by your laptop.” He grew more impatient. “Ivy, open the door.”
She quickly turned the lock and threw open the door. She was bathed in soft light that illuminated her—long russet hair in a single plait trailing over one shoulder of a sage-green, long-sleeve T-shirt that she’d tucked into faded, ripped blue jeans. She wore soft, scuffed, leather moccasins.
She looked delectable, particularly when he caught the scent of lavender that she must have used in her bath or on her hair or maybe—the best thought of all—dabbed between her breasts. He inhaled, wanting to draw her completely inside him and never exhale or let her go. He smiled at the sheer pleasure of seeing her, smelling her, knowing her…and then he did take her in his arms, gently wrapping her up, against his chest, feeling her soft breasts, feeling her hair tickle his nose, feeling the unique essence of her.
“I missed you,” he said, meaning it from the depth of his being.
“We haven’t been apart that long.”
“Any time apart is too long.”
She chuckled softly, then leaned back and looked up at him, green eyes alight with mischief. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to completely spoil me.”
“That’s exactly what I have in mind.”
“Really?”
“Are you done for the day?”
“I can be if you have something better in mind than a small screen.”
“How would you like fresh-baked cookies?”
She grinned, eyes lighting up even more. “Texas tea cakes? Cowboy cookies?”
“Maybe.” He decided to tease her a little bit just to watch the expression change on her pretty face. “I’ve got fixings in the truck.”
“We’re going to cook?”
“I’m going to cook. You’re going to sample for the honky-tonk.”
“You are going to spoil me.”
“Every day.” And he grinned, knowing it was absolutely true, because nothing would please him more than to see her happy.
“Hah!” She laughed as if she didn’t believe him, but she still looked pleased by his words. “Let me grab my stuff.”
“I’ll get the lights and door.”
“Thanks.” And then she stopped and looked at him, suddenly serious. “How did it go with your niece?”
“Better than expected.” He smiled, remembering Storm’s reaction. “She’s convinced Fernando will be home for Christmas.”
“But how?”
“No idea. At least this gives her a chance to get used to the idea that he’s gone—most likely for good.”
“But when Christmas comes along and he’s not back—”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“And hope Fernando is a Christmas miracle.” She picked up her stuff, smiling at him.
“Exactly.”
He stepped outside right behind her, checking to make sure the door automatically locked behind them.
As she walked to his truck, she glanced back. “Do you need help carrying stuff to my place?”
He shook his head, thinking about the thousand-plus pounds of temperamental animal that he handled every day. He wasn’t short on muscle, so he could easily carry a box of ingredients that might be too heavy for her. But he said none of that, because it’d sound like bragging and a cowboy just did his job, day in and day out, without flexing his muscles for a compliment or two. On second thought, he guessed cowboys were as susceptible as any other man to an appreciative glance from a gal, so they might be found to wear their shirts and jeans a little too tight, but only on the right occasions.
