by Liz Isaacson
“Disabled,” fell from his lips, along with a scoff. Terry was not disabled. He just didn’t like working.
“Not your problem anymore,” Carson said, and he was at least right about that. But the loneliness he’d experienced since leaving behind everything and everyone he’d ever known had hit him hard. Maybe that was why the woman in the parking lot had lit such a reaction in him.
Tired of driving already, he pulled off the highway and used his phone to find a hotel. Calls, texts, and mapping were about all he used his device for, but it was the best one money could buy.
He’d managed to get the family lawyer on his side and together, they’d split the money from the sale of the ranch so that Carson got fifty-one percent, with the other forty-nine being split between Terry and their father.
Didn’t matter. Carson had become a billionaire overnight, and while the number was less in Terry’s bank account, there were still nine zeroes at the end. Well, there had been when Carson had left the state of Montana. Who knew what his brother had spent in the past ten weeks.
Another problem Carson didn’t have to deal with anymore. His money was safe, protected where neither his father nor his brother could ever access it. He’d bought a new truck, and a new hat, and packed Ted and Tony into the back before driving away.
“Time to stop driving away,” he told himself as he went inside to see if this hotel would let him have dogs. The dog waste bags on a pole in the middle of the front lawn was encouraging, and sure enough, they gave him a room for the night no problem.
Now he just had to survive another lonely night before his interview. Yes, his two black labs were great company, but they didn’t speak English. They couldn’t give advice. He did steal comfort from their loyalty and devotion to him, but what he really wanted was a friend.
He wanted to know who that blonde woman was, and how he might be able to see her again. Because if she would just listen to him, he could explain that he hadn’t meant anything by asking her if she’d hit his truck. If they could just talk, then maybe he could ask her out. Maybe he wouldn’t have to be alone forever.
The next day, he skipped his morning prayers like he’d been doing for months. God had never seemed to hear him in Montana while he pleaded for a solution to their financial problems that would allow him to keep the ranch he’d grown up working. No, every solution required the sale of their generational land, their herd, crops, all of it.
Not wanting to dwell on the negative, he didn’t kneel down as soon as he rolled out of bed. And he’d been happier—at least he thought he was. He worked now, thought things through, and went with what his gut told him. He used to think that was God, leading and guiding his life, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Maybe God had abandoned him the way his mother had, all those years ago. She’d been the one to teach him how to fold his arms, how to say a prayer, how to look on the sunny side of life. But apparently, even she had a limit, and she’d left his dad and Cobble Creek Ranch when Carson was only twelve years old.
“Two interviews today, guys,” he told Ted and Tony, brothers from a litter he’d bred on the ranch. “Let’s hope we get one of them, okay? Then we can find a real house to live in.” He straightened his hat and grabbed his duffel bag before heading out to the truck with the dogs.
Last Chance Ranch sat a few minutes up a canyon, the ranch on a bluff that overlooked the valley and bordered the Angeles National Forest. It was beautiful land, and he passed a couple of parked cars for sale at the intersection where he turned to go up to the ranch.
A few minutes later, he arrived at the front gate to the ranch, which was being guarded by a legless robot. It looked like it might be a mailbox, but it was in serious need of repair. He eased his truck by it, noticing instantly that this place was in the process of getting cleaned up.
And whoever was doing it, was doing a great job. And they need help, he thought as he passed a couple of roads on his left and nothing but farmland on his right. His heart took courage at the familiar sight of a ranch, and he liked the aura of this place immediately.
He pulled into the driveway of the homestead, as a woman named Scarlett Adams had instructed him, and he said to the dogs, “Okay, so I’m going in. You stay here. I’ll be back,” before facing the house.
His nerves fired on all cylinders as he walked up the sidewalk, noticing the grass had been freshly cut but that the flowerbeds were bare. The scent of cattle and sunshine hung in the air, and there was no better balm to Carson’s soul than that.
After knocking on the door, he only had to wait a few seconds for a redhead to open the door. She was pretty, like the blonde, and yet his heart didn’t flounce around in his chest like a fish out of water the way it had at the sight of the other woman.
“Hello,” he said, smiling at her. “I’m Carson Chatworth.” He extended his hand for her to shake, which she did.
“Come on in,” she said, falling back and turning as she walked. “I’m Scarlett Adams. I’ve got my associates with me today.” She pointed to a cowboy sitting at the kitchen table, which had been turned to face the door. “Hudson Flannigan. And Adele Woodruff.”
Carson almost fell down at the sight of Adele Woodruff—the woman who’d almost hit his truck in the parking lot yesterday. Well, now he knew her name, and he hadn’t even had to make any phone calls or toss any money around.
Chapter 3
Adele stared at the cowboy walking toward her. She could not believe that it was the same, arrogant fool who’d practically threatened to call the cops on her. I got your license plate number.
She hadn’t hit his truck, and she’d sat fuming in her car for a good five minutes before she’d tried backing out again. She’d managed to do it without getting another crazy cowboy in her face, and she could not believe he was here right now.
What was God trying to do to her? Hadn’t she suffered enough already?
“Hello,” Carson said to Hudson, his smile perfectly in place. He shook Hudson’s hand and then presented his hand to Adele.
She didn’t want to make a scene, so she held out her hand and let him pump it. Zillions of butterfly wings burst to life along her skin where he touched, and her eyes met his for a moment as Scarlett sat at the table.
Adele pulled her hand back, shocked—literally—by the physical reaction to Carson. She’d only had this reaction to a man a couple of times in her life—and she’d ended up married to Hank.
“So,” Scarlett said, beginning the interview while Adele clenched her arms across her chest. “You worked a ranch in Montana?”
“I owned the ranch,” Carson said, his voice full of confidence. Adele couldn’t help scoffing, and it was a bit too loud as her best friend turned to look at her. Scarlett’s eyes held a question, but Adele wasn’t going to answer it right now. She didn’t want to answer it ever.
“Why don’t you own it now?” Hudson asked, and Adele thought that was a very good question indeed.
“I had to sell it,” Carson said. “And I’m looking for a new place to be.” His voice held something softer in the words. Something Adele couldn’t process fast enough, but something that touched her heart—and that really annoyed her.
“Mostly horses?” Scarlett asked.
“Horses, cattle, whatever,” Carson answered. “I can clean stalls and do ranch maintenance. I can fix fences, and feed animals, and assess their needs. I know agriculture issues and have managed the farming aspect on a working cattle ranch.”
“Finances?” Scarlett asked, scribbling the things he’d said like she’d go back and read her notes later. No, Adele knew Scarlett, and if Carson could do half the things he’d just said, he’d leave this kitchen with a job.
Her heart couldn’t decide which it wanted. Having him here on the ranch every day meant she’d likely have to see him. They’d have to talk about what happened in the parking lot. She’d have to admit that she was just having a bad day, was stressed, and just wanted to come back to her private cabin here
on the ranch.
He’d tell her why he was so upset, and why every pair of jeans he wore looked brand new, and why that dimple in his left cheek was so adorable.
“I had an accountant,” he said, and she stopped fantasizing about things she had no right to fantasize about. “But I knew what was going on. We met regularly, and I could definitely do that too.” He flashed another smile, this time right at Adele, before turning back to Scarlett. “Whatever you need.”
Whatever you need.
Adele decided she needed to make a Needs List and hope he’d come knocking, offering her the same thing he’d just offered to Scarlett. She gave herself a little shake. No, you don’t, she told herself.
She didn’t need Carson to fulfill her needs. She was doing that all by herself, thank you very much.
“Great.” Scarlett reached across the table and shook his hand again. “You’re hired. Adele, will you take him over to the Community and let him pick out a cabin?”
Oh, no, This wasn’t happening. Adele kicked Scarlett under the table in a not-so-subtle way, because Carson saw everything. She had a distinct feeling that he didn’t miss much, and that scared her as much as it excited her.
Scarlett looked at her, dozens of questions in her eyes. “What?”
Adele gave one quick shake of her head, but Carson stood up. She couldn’t say anything in front of him anyway. She hadn’t told Scarlett about the incident in the parking lot yesterday, and now she’d have to.
Scarlett stood. “Adele will take you over,” she said. “I’m assuming you need somewhere to live? We have cabins on-site, and that’s part of your pay.”
“Sounds great,” he said, glancing at Adele and then looking away. Smart man. At least he seemed to be learning quickly.
Adele couldn’t see a way out of taking him over to the Community and giving him a tour of the cabins. She’d told her friend that she’d do anything. Clean out stalls. Feed pigs. Whatever it took to earn the money she needed to pay her bills. And she had. For weeks, she had. And for the past few weeks, she’d actually been happier than she’d been in many, many years.
She was not going to let Carson ruin that. So Scarlett would know she didn’t like this new hire, Adele glared at her as she led the way to the front door, looking away when Carson stepped between her and Scarlett.
The heat outside hit her in the chest, and she sighed.
“Look,” he said, darting down the steps in front of her. “I’m really sorry about yesterday. Honestly, I am.”
Adele couldn’t have him being nice to her. Then she’d soften, and hold his hand, and start something with him. Because the attraction between them felt magnetic.
No boyfriends on the ranch.
Hadn’t she and Scarlett said that?
Yes. Yes, they had.
But she was pretty sure Scarlett had already started something with Hudson. So why couldn’t she have a little fun with Carson?
She shoved the thought away, noticing the dogs in the back of his truck. “Black labs?”
“Yes,” he said, walking with her as they approached the truck. “Brothers, from my ranch in Montana.”
She cut a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. “I used to have a black lab, when I was growing up. His name was Bubba.”
“They’re great dogs,” Carson said, and Adele congratulated herself on having a normal conversation with him. She couldn’t believe she’d shared something so personal, though. After all, Bubba held a special place in her heart.
“They’ll fit right in here,” she said, putting her walls back up. So he was handsome—gorgeous was a better word, actually. He smelled amazing—like pine trees and mint. He obviously had money. If she let her defenses down, she’d fall for him faster than she even knew.
“Okay.” She exhaled heavily. “Drive me over to the Community, and I’ll show you the cabins.” She started around the front of the truck. “This thing has air conditioning, right?”
He chuckled as he got in, saying, “Yes.”
Adele disliked trucks in general, because she felt fat and clumsy getting into them. She wasn’t sure where to put her foot, and she ended up half-hopping and half-falling into the truck. Carson said nothing; didn’t even look at her. But humiliation burned through her, increasing her internal temperature.
“There are thirteen cabins over here,” she said, slipping into tour guide mode. “Hudson lives in the back corner, and Sawyer’s taken the one at the end here.” He turned, and Adele continued with, “All the other cabins are available, and you can choose any one you want.”
He drove around the loop in silence, then started around again. He pulled into the driveway right next to Hudson’s cabin, and said, “I like neighbors, and the dogs will like the woods here.”
“Great,” Adele said dryly, already reaching for the door handle. “Okay, I have to—”
“Would you go to lunch with me?” he asked, totally interrupting her.
She swiveled her face toward him, sure he had not just asked her out. “No,” she said, sliding out of the truck in an ungraceful way. “Welcome to Last Chance Ranch.” She slammed the door and walked away, not even giving the dogs a pat the way she wanted to.
Adele found peace and comfort in the way her knife moved effortlessly through celery, making each piece uniform. Cooking soothed her, and she didn’t even mind the clean-up afterward.
She diced onions and celery and added them to the pot already simmering on her single hotplate. The overhead lights made for hot working conditions, but she didn’t mind so much.
After stirring the beef together with the vegetables, she then added salt and pepper and garlic salt. With her board clean, she cored her head of cabbage and chopped it up too. That went in the pot. Then chili powder, and water, and a lid.
While that simmered, she cleaned up and opened a few cans, always making sure she worked on the lovely pieces of gray marble she’d found in a thrift store on her way back from cleaning out Hank’s storage unit. She’d experimented for a week before getting the lighting settings correct, and sometimes she had to change them depending on where the sun was.
She usually cooked after her long day on the ranch, and the sun wasn’t a factor as Gramps’s cabin next door took most of the light from the sunset. The thought of Gramps reminded her that she hadn’t checked in on him yet that evening. She would when the cabbage patch stew was finished.
Cabbage felt western and rustic, and anyone could make this simple recipe. She pulled out her phone and started typing up a caption for her video—also an acquired skill over the past few months. She’d studied other foodie video accounts and took notes of when they used emojis and when they posted in their stories or how they moved links in and out of their bio.
She was still starting up, but she’d managed to get tagged by a huge account, and her subscribers had skyrocketed in the past week. That fact made a smile touch her face, and Adele held onto it, unsure of when the last time she’d grinned had been.
She hated that she couldn’t feel happiness as easily as she once had. But her life was a hundred and eighty degrees away from where it was a year ago, and she was still adjusting. At least that was what she told herself.
Finished with her caption and still waiting for the cabbage to cook, she turned away from the island in the kitchen and wandered to the front door. She’d installed an extra lock just to make sure no one came in while she was cooking.
Adele wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t want anyone to know about TastySpot or her culinary skills. “Those are still coming along,” she told herself. She hadn’t gone to culinary school, but the dream lingered on the horizon. There, but always just out of reach.
Once Hank’s debts were paid, Adele was going to look into going to classes. She’d looked before, just after Hank’s disappearance, and the price tag had convinced her to take the job here at Last Chance Ranch with Scarlett.
So while she was here, she would work hard, both with the goats and on her cookin
g. But if the time came that she could leave behind mucking out stalls and become a chef, she’d take it. Oh, yes, she’d take any opportunity that came her way.
Chapter 4
Carson got settled into his new cabin easily and quickly. It helped that he didn’t own a whole lot. He’d been right about the dogs liking the woods, and they’d disappeared back there while he unpacked his boxes.
He’d stood on the small back porch and whistled. They’d come tearing out of the trees a few moments later, lapped up a quart of water, and now lay panting at his feet on the front porch while he shaped an indistinct piece of wood into something useful.
“Hey,” a man said, and Carson glanced up to see the cowboy who’d been in his interview walking toward him, a golden retriever at his side.
Tony whined, but Ted didn’t even move. “Wait,” he told the dogs. He stood and went down the steps to shake Hudson’s hand again. “Hey. Hope it’s okay I chose the place right next door.”
“Of course it is.” Hudson looked past him to the porch. “Hound’s a gentle dog,” he said. “They can play.”
Carson whistled at his dogs again, and they came bounding down the steps to sniff Hound. “I wasn’t sure if I should come back over and get an assignment or what.”
“Scarlett hasn’t decided yet,” Hudson said. “So just get settled, and I’m sure she’ll let you know soon enough.” He gestured to his house. “Well, I have to get dinner going.”
“This place is just getting started, isn’t it?” Carson asked.
“Well, kind of,” Hudson said. “I just started last week, and Scarlett is trying to get sponsorship with an animal rescue program. So we’re getting things cleaned up. Fences fixed. Animals vaccinated. All of it.”
“I can do any of that,” Carson said.
