Lauren startled at the sound of a guy’s voice and grabbed the back of a dust-covered chair at the sight of a tall man standing between her and the front door. He held up his hands, palms out.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Can I help you?” Miraculously, her voice didn’t reveal the runaway beating of her heart.
“Actually, I’m hoping I can help you.” He didn’t advance any closer, giving Lauren a few moments to take in his appearance, looking for clues to his meaning. Dressed in dark slacks, pressed white shirt and pale blue tie, he didn’t come across as a laborer looking for a job. She guessed he stood a bit over six feet, had sandy brown hair and was attractive in that clean-cut “businessman who used to be the high-school quarterback” sort of way.
“Tim Wainwright with Carrington Beef. We provide top-quality beef products to restaurants all over Texas. And it’s an educated guess that a barbecue restaurant is going to need a lot of ribs and brisket.”
Lauren tilted her head slightly. “How could you possibly know I’d be here or that I planned to open a restaurant? I literally signed the papers fifteen minutes ago.”
Tim smiled. “I’m just that good.”
Lauren made a sound of disbelief. This guy was full of himself.
Tim motioned, as if waving off his previous words. “It’s my job to know when potential new customers come on the scene. I heard from a friend on the local city council about your plans and that you were closing on the property this morning. Took a chance we’d cross paths.”
“You must really need the business if you’re here now.” She indicated their surroundings, covered with enough dust they could probably make dust castles. “As you can see, I’m a long way from opening my doors for business.”
“It’s never too early to make a good decision.”
She lifted an eyebrow. Did he brainstorm these business pickup lines? Her thoughts must have shown on her face because the teasing look on his disappeared. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a business card, which he extended as he walked closer.
“I’d like to sit down with you when it’s convenient and discuss what we can offer you. Dinner tonight, perhaps?”
There was something in the way he looked at her that made her wonder if his invitation was just about business. Or did he use his good looks to his professional advantage? That thought did not sit well with her. And with good reason.
“I’m afraid I won’t have time tonight.” Or any night, she thought as she accepted his card. “But when I’m ready to make those kinds of decisions, I’ll know how to reach you.”
She thought for a moment he might press for the “hard sell” approach, but thankfully he just nodded.
“The dinner invitation is a standing one. I’m through this area quite often.”
She simply nodded and offered a polite smile. No need to reveal that when she wasn’t working on Brazos Baker–related business, she was doing her best to not suck at being a mom. She’d save that tidbit in reserve in case he attempted to get personal. Nothing like the responsibility of twins in diapers to scare off unwanted advances.
Evidently getting the message that he wasn’t going to make any more progress today—professionally or otherwise—Tim gave a nod of his own and headed for the exit. Halfway there, he turned and took a few steps backward as he scanned what would become the dining room.
“Can’t wait to see what you do with the place.”
After he left, she was hit with just how much work she faced before decisions such as which food vendors to use made any sense. And none of that work was going to move to the “completed” column if she didn’t get to it. She rolled up her sleeves and took another step toward her dream.
* * *
IT WAS TIME for Adam Hartley to stop stewing over the potential customer he’d lost and forge ahead. His family had been understanding of the time and funds he’d put in to the branded-beef operation so far, but each day he wondered when that understanding would disappear. Everything his siblings did in addition to their regular ranch duties added to the Rocking Horse Ranch’s bottom line. Sure, Sloane’s camps for underprivileged kids cost money, but those funds were now coming from the product endorsements her new husband, Jason, had signed after winning the national title in steer wrestling the previous winter.
Adam kept reminding himself that big rewards required big risks. He just hoped his risks ended in the types of rewards he envisioned.
At the sound of the front door opening, followed by fast-approaching footsteps, he looked up from the list of possible customers throughout the Hill Country and into Austin.
“I have great news,” Angel said as she darn near slid into the dining room like Tom Cruise in Risky Business.
“You sold some photos?” His sister was slowly gaining recognition for her beautiful photos of ranch and rodeo life.
“No, great news for you.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I could use some of that.”
“I just heard from Justine Ware that the Brazos Baker is opening a restaurant here in town.”
“Who?”
“The Brazos Baker, Lauren Shayne.” At what must be a confused look on his face, she continued, “She has a cooking show on TV. Mom watches it all the time. She has a magazine, too. Some cookbooks. And now she’s planning to open a barbecue restaurant in what used to be Otto’s.”
No, anywhere but there.
Part of him was excited to have such a high-profile prospective customer, but he’d had his eye on that building for a while. His imagination had seen it as a mercantile filled with Rocking Horse Ranch–branded products—prime steaks from their herd, Ben’s hand-tooled saddles and leatherwork, Angel’s photographs, his mom’s chocolate cake. He’d seen it all so clearly—except for the money to make it possible. The branded-beef operation was supposed to fund those big ideas, but he needed time for it to grow. Time he evidently no longer had.
He had to stop investing so much time and energy in the cart before he could even afford the horse. But maybe, despite the disappointment, this opportunity would help him take a leap forward toward the eventual goal. A goal that would now have to reside somewhere else, though at the moment he couldn’t imagine where.
Still, the prospect of supplying not only a restaurant of that size, but also one operated by someone famous felt like Christmas presents for the next decade dropped into his lap.
Angel motioned for him to stand. “You need to go shower and put on clean clothes.”
“Um, why?”
“Because when I came through town just now, I saw vehicles at the restaurant. She’s probably there right now, just waiting to hear all about awesome locally grown beef.”
A shot of adrenaline raced through him. When he started to gather the papers strewn across the table, Angel waved him away.
“I’ll take care of this. Go on.” As he headed toward the bathroom, Angel called out, “Oh, and tell her Mom loves her show. Maybe that will win you brownie points.”
Adam raced through his shower and getting dressed. Before hurtling out the door, however, he decided he should learn a little bit more about this famous cook before showing up to meet her unprepared. He couldn’t blow his only shot to make a positive first impression. He opened his laptop, which Angel had deposited in his room, and did a search for the Brazos Baker.
A quick web search brought up her page. He wasn’t prepared for the beautiful, smiling face that greeted him. With that long, straight blond hair and those pretty blue eyes, she looked one part model and one part girl-next-door. He wasn’t a viewer of cooking shows, but he had to admit the deep-dish apple pie in her hands made his mouth water.
He forced himself to navigate away from her photo and read about how she got her start—learning from her grandmother, entering 4-H baking competitions, publishing her first cookbook when she was on
ly twenty. Lauren Shayne appeared to be a lot more than just a pretty face.
Nowhere on her site was there any mention of plans for a restaurant, but perhaps that was under wraps. Well, it would be until the Blue Falls gossips got hold of the news, which they probably had ten seconds before she’d even rolled into town. The fact his sister had already found out and blown in like a storm to tell him was proof enough of that.
Not wanting to delay contacting her any longer, he shut down his computer and headed out the door. As he drove toward town, he couldn’t keep his imagination from wondering what it would mean to have his family’s beef used by a celebrity. Would she mention it on her national television program? The possibilities began to supplant some of the disappointment over her choice of building.
His mind skipped ahead to Rocking Horse Ranch beef appearing on the menus of fancy hotels and the catered events of the increasing number of actors and musicians calling the Austin area home. A flash of brown on the side of the road intruded on his daydream a moment before a deer jumped in front of his truck.
He hit the brakes and tensed less than a breath before the unavoidable thunk and jolt as he hit the deer dead-center. His heart was still racing when the hiss of steam rose from his radiator. There were times when Adam thought his family’s motto should be One Step Forward, Two Steps Back. Why did that deer decide today was the day he couldn’t handle the pressures of life anymore and taken a flying leap in front of a pickup truck? A truck Adam had bought used and finally managed to pay off exactly one week ago, just in time for its tenth birthday. And as a bonus, it appeared his air bags were not operational.
After turning on his hazard flashers, he stepped out onto the pavement to verify the deer that had gotten knocked into the ditch was indeed dead. One look was all the confirmation he needed. Same with the front grille of his truck. With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and dialed Greg Bozeman and his always-busy tow truck.
Half an hour later, instead of introducing himself to Lauren Shayne and singing the praises of his family’s locally raised beef, he was at Greg’s garage, waiting for the man to tell him how much the tow and repairs were going to cost him.
He considered buying a bag of chips from the wire rack to calm his growling stomach, but he figured that was a buck he should save.
Greg stepped through the doorway between the repair bays and the small office of the garage, which had been in his family for as long as Adam could remember.
“I think your family could keep me in business just replacing radiators and front grilles.”
Adam knew Greg was referring to when Adam’s brother Ben had accidentally run into Mandy Richardson’s car the previous year thanks to a pigeon flying through his truck’s window and hitting him in the side of the head. He’d had to repair Mandy’s car, but it hadn’t turned out so badly in the end. Ben and Mandy were now happily married with an adorable little girl. Adam was pretty sure his encounter wasn’t going to turn out with that sort of happily-ever-after ending. The best he could hope for was the lowest possible repair bill Greg could manage.
“Yeah, seems the area wildlife has it in for us.”
“At least the deer didn’t hit you in the head.”
After Greg gave Adam the estimated price and said he needed a couple of days to complete the repairs, he asked if Adam needed a ride anywhere.
“No, thanks. Got a couple things to take care of in town.” He’d figure out how to get back to the ranch after that.
Greg waved as he picked up his ringing phone.
Adam started walking toward downtown Blue Falls, thankful the day was overcast so he wouldn’t be sweating buckets by the time he reached his destination. Now he needed Lauren Shayne’s business more than ever. He’d launched the branded-beef business with his family’s blessing, hoping to contribute his part to the diversification that would allow the Rocking Horse Ranch to stay solvent and in the family, something that had been touch-and-go on more than one occasion. But if he didn’t land some big accounts soon, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep seeing money going out without enough coming back in.
Sure, the business was less than a year old, but there wasn’t a day that went by when he wasn’t conscious of the figures in the operation’s balance sheet. None of his siblings, or his parents, had said anything about his shuttering the operation, but he was also aware that his attempt to carve out a distinctive place for himself in the family’s business was costing more than Ben’s saddle-making or Angel’s photography supplies.
By the time he reached the restaurant, he’d managed to adjust his attitude from his earlier annoyance to being the friendly, approachable local businessman he needed to be to meet a potential customer. A small blue hatchback sat alone outside the building. He grinned at the big yellow smiley face sticker on the hatch. It was surrounded by several other stickers—a few flowers, one that said I Brake for Cake, one of a stick figure lying beneath a palm tree and another that read Don’t Worry, Be Happy.
Lauren Shayne seemed to be a happy-with-life type of person. He supposed that was easier when your business was a roaring success. Although her car didn’t look as if it was driven by one of the rich and famous.
Well, if nothing else, maybe some of her happy vibes would rub off on him and finish vanquishing his frustration and concern.
He took a deep breath, stood tall, fixed his pitch in his mind and walked through the large, wooden double doors. The first thing he saw when he stepped inside was Lauren Shayne standing on the top step of a ten-foot ladder, stretching to reach a banner hanging from one of the large posts supporting the ceiling. His instinct was to steady the ladder, but he was afraid any sudden movement would cause her to fall. Instead, he stood perfectly still until she gave up with a sound of frustration and settled into a safer position on the ladder.
“Would you like some help with that?”
She startled a bit, but not enough to send her careening off her perch, thank goodness.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
He couldn’t help but smile. “I thought that’s what I was offering.” He pointed at the banner.
She stared at him for a moment before descending the ladder. “That’s not necessary. I’ll get some help in here at some point.”
“I don’t mind,” he said as he walked slowly toward the ladder, giving her ample time to move away. His mom had taught him and his brothers to never make a woman feel as if she was trapped or threatened. The fact that there was only one vehicle outside and no signs of other people in the building told him that Lauren was here alone. “You almost had it anyway. My just being a little taller should do the trick.”
She didn’t object again so he climbed the ladder and nabbed the cloth banner bearing some unknown German coat of arms and several years’ worth of dust. When his feet hit the wooden floor again, he held up the banner.
“This thing has seen better days.”
Lauren made a small sound of amusement. “That it has.”
He shifted his gaze to her and momentarily forgot what planet he was on. The picture on Lauren’s website didn’t do her justice.
“I’d introduce myself, but I’m guessing you already know who I am.” She didn’t sound snotty or full of herself, more like...
“I suppose you’ve already had several visitors stop by.”
“You suppose correctly.”
“Small town. News travels fast.”
“Oh, I know. I grew up in a town not much bigger than Blue Falls.”
He found himself wanting to ask her about where she grew up, to compare experiences of small-town life, but his visit had a purpose. And that purpose wasn’t to keep Lauren talking so that he could continue to appreciate how pretty she was or how much he liked the sound of her voice, which for some reason reminded him of a field of sunflowers.
Wouldn’t his brothers—heck, even his sisters—hurt t
hemselves laughing over the thoughts traipsing through his head right now?
“So, the question remains, what brings you by?”
Right, back to business.
“I’m Adam Hartley, and I wanted to talk to you about locally sourced beef from the Rocking Horse Ranch.”
“No mistaking this for anything but the heart of Texas. You’re the second beef producer to come see me in the last hour.”
Someone had beaten him here? He silently cursed that deer for making him later to arrive than he planned. A sick feeling settled in his stomach.
“May I ask who it was?”
Please don’t say Carrington Beef. They’d claimed a number of contracts he’d been in the running for, and if he missed out on being first with this huge opportunity because of hitting a deer, he might have to go to the middle of the ranch so he could scream as loud as he was able.
“Carrington Beef.”
Somehow Adam managed not to curse out loud, though the parade of words racing through his head was certainly colorful.
Lauren pulled a business card from her pocket. “A rep named Tim Wainwright.”
It was as if Fate said, “You think I can’t make your day any worse? Here, hold my beer.”
Copyright © 2018 by Trish Milburn
ISBN-13: 9781488082337
A Home with the Rancher
Copyright © 2018 by April Standard
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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