Her Last Billionaire Boyfriend

by Liz Isaacson

  Carson didn’t bother correcting Cache. It wasn’t about what he wanted anymore. He knew that now. For some reason, God hadn’t wanted him to have Cobble Creek. Maybe he was supposed to come here and meet Adele Woodruff. Maybe he wasn’t. Since things hadn’t worked out with her, he couldn’t fathom why God would’ve wanted him here just to get his still-bruised heart broken all over again.

  He expected the same crushing anger and guilt to hit him, but it didn’t. He knew now that God wasn’t out to punish him or make his life more difficult.

  But maybe God could give him a place to be at Shiloh Ridge in Colorado.

  Ten days later, Carson drove through the same Rocky Mountains that he’d loved in Montana. Yes, these were hundreds of miles further south, but they reminded him so much of everything he loved that he already felt calm and hopeful about his decision to leave Last Chance Ranch and try Shiloh Ridge.

  The ranch sat only a few minutes outside of the picturesque town, and he liked that he wouldn’t have to drive far for groceries and socialization. Shiloh Ridge was a dairy farm, which was something Carson didn’t have a whole lot of experience with. But they had eight thousand head of cattle that needed tending to, and four vacancies for cowboys.

  Bear Glover had hired him over the phone a week ago, and Carson had finished up his responsibilities, hugged Scarlett while she cried and begged him to stay, told him Adele would come back to him, and then driven across a couple of states to be here.

  He took a deep breath, his lungs expanding fully for the first time since Adele had left California. “Help me feel…help me know what to do.” He turned off the truck and got out of it, walking toward a big building that looked like a ski lodge but was clearly the administration building.

  The good, earthy scent of cows and hay and mountains met his nose, and Carson smiled. The log cabin had a tall set of stairs he took one at a time, deliberately. Once inside, he couldn’t turn back.

  He opened the door and went inside, expecting to see cowboys everywhere. But the building that he could see was empty. A desk sat a few feet away, but it too sat empty. Someone was supposed to be there, but there was a tented piece of paper that said, “In the kitchen. Wait or come on back.”

  Carson was tired of waiting, so he went on back. It was easy enough to find the kitchen, because the scent of marinara sauce drew him in the right direction. “Hey,” he said to the woman stirring something on the stove. “The sign said come on back.”

  A woman turned, and she was easily his mother’s age—if he’d seen his mother lately. “Oh, you must be Carson Chatworth.” She left the wooden spoon in the pot and bustled over to him, her dark hair swinging a little. Her smile warmed his heart, and surprise darted through him when she pulled him right into a hug.

  “Ma, you can’t hug all the new hires,” a man behind him said, and the woman released Carson.

  “Yes, I can,” she said. “And I made spaghetti and meatballs too. Come on. Come in. The other boys will be in soon.”

  Carson looked at the other man, finding the same sloped nose and dark hair poking out from under his cowboy hat. He had dark eyes and a face full of hair. He smiled widely, his eyes shining. “I’m Bear.”

  “Carson.”

  “So apparently, we’re eating lunch first. Then I’ll show you your cabin and we’ll talk about your job duties.”

  “Sounds great,” Carson said as his stomach growled. Spaghetti and meatballs sounded delicious about now. He watched Bear’s mother get out real plates and pull forks from a drawer.

  “My mother,” Bear said. “She hugs without even introducing herself. Her name’s Trudy. She loves taking care of all the farm hands.” He shook his head as the first man came into the room. “I’m an only child, so it feeds her desire to take care of everyone.”

  “You must be the reason we’re getting fed today.” The cowboy grinned and pushed past Carson and Bear.

  “That’s Steven,” he said, and several more arrived. Carson got lost in all the names and faces, and he decided he had plenty of time to meet everyone and get to know them.

  The very thought made him tired. He didn’t want to meet two dozen new people, start a new job at a new ranch, live in a tiny cabin by himself.

  Problem was, he didn’t know what else to do. Or where else to go.

  New York City, his mind whispered, but he absolutely couldn’t go back there. He hadn’t heard from Adele since she left, and he wasn’t going to text her. He’d told her he couldn’t go with her, and she’d chosen to go anyway.

  So he put his head down. He unpacked his boxes in the tiny cabin. Reported for work the next morning. Met new people and tried to remember their names.

  Days passed and became weeks, which became a month and then two. It snowed in the mountains in Colorado, and the other farm hands complained about the cold and mud. Not Carson. He loved it, because it reminded him of home.

  Home.

  He still wasn’t sure where home was for him, but for right now it was Shiloh Ridge Ranch. His thoughts zipped over to the people he knew at Last Chance Ranch, the way they often did. He wasn’t sure if that was home either, but he knew he’d left part of his heart there.

  Thankfully, Scarlett and Hudson were getting married in April, and he’d already gotten the time off to go. He wondered if Adele would be there, if she was still living and cooking in New York City, or if she’d landed somewhere else. Where, he wasn’t sure. He could probably check her cooking video social media page and find out, but he still hadn’t joined it. After all, he had Trudy cooking most of his meals these days, and he had no need to watch sixty-second clips of how to make gourmet food.

  But he sure did want to see those videos, if only to remind himself of how much he’d enjoyed his time with Adele.

  A keen sense of missing seemed to accompany him to every chore, every church meeting, every cold evening with his dogs.

  And his last prayer before he felt asleep each night was Adele. Help Adele to be happy.

  Chapter 23

  Adele had been tired before, but working as a chef—and not even the executive chef—in a busy New York City restaurant brought a whole new level of exhaustion into her life. When she wasn’t at the restaurant, which was most of the time, honestly, she was sleeping in her studio apartment on a ratty couch. No bed. The couch would convert into one, but she hadn’t had time to go buy a mattress.

  She had some money now to do that, but no time.

  At Last Chance Ranch, she’d had nothing but time. Time with her baby goats. Time to cook her family recipes. Time to hold hands and stroll around the ranch with Carson.

  She tried to push the handsome cowboy out of her mind, but he never went far, and never for very long. She cooked for people in costume. She cooked for people who didn’t want to cook for themselves on Thanksgiving.

  As Christmas approached, and Mother Nature brought rain, hail, and snow to the city, Adele wondered—not for the first time—what in the world she was doing. It had always been warm in Savannah, and the weather couldn’t be better in California.

  Then she’d think that she couldn’t believe she was thinking about the weather. The weather, of all things. Her life had been reduced to hating the weather, sleeping on a couch, and cooking shrimp stackers for hours on end.

  “Shrimp app,” Billy, the expeditor, called. “Four. Beet salad, two.”

  “Shrimp, four,” Adele called out, setting the pans she needed on the stove. She tossed butter into each of them, then added a spoonful of garlic to flavor it. Three shrimp went in each pan with a satisfying sizzle. She tossed and flipped them as they went from translucent to opaque, and she sprinkled the spice mixture the executive chef—Alexa—had put together. The shrimp turned a brighter shade of red, and she grabbed the long toothpicks she used just for this appetizer. Stab, stab, stab, and one stacker was done.

  “One minute on stackers,” she called.

  “Beet salad in one,” the line cook down the row called.

  �
��Where’s the dessert for table thirty-four?” Billy asked. “I’ve got two tiramisu and two pumpkin cheesecake going on ten minutes.”

  “Teresa stepped out,” someone said as Adele stacked her third appetizer.

  “Out?” Billy called. “Who can get me these desserts?”

  “I can,” Adele called, putting her last appetizer on the plate. She sprinkled parsley over them, the green and red making this dish extra festive. She wiped the plates and set them in the window. “Two tiramisu. Two pumpkin cheesecake.”

  “Thanks, Adele.”

  Her feet hated her. She’d never sweated so much. But she’d wanted this experience more than anything, and she refused to feel sorry for herself. She was the only one in the kitchen who didn’t have a culinary degree. Had never even been to culinary school. So if her feet hurt a little and she wasn’t sleeping as much as she used to, so what?

  So what?

  The words bounced around inside her head as she swirled the cheesecake with whipped cream and set the two desserts in the window. Her appetizers went out, and a flash of pride hit her.

  In the beginning, she’d felt this level of pride for her whole shift. Now, months later, it came and went, usually like lightning. Striking one moment and disappearing the next.

  She’d no sooner set the cheesecake in the window and a waiter whisked the desserts off with a look like she’d done something wrong when Joey Dawson himself breezed into the kitchen.

  “Adele,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. “Just the chef I wanted to see.”

  “Hey,” she said with a smile. “What’s up?” She’d learned to get him right to the heart of the business, or hours could be wasted.

  “Have you seen the new videos on TastySpot?”

  Yes, she had. And no, she wasn’t happy about them. The flashy, high-cost foods featured in the videos didn’t fit her brand. She wasn’t sure who was making them, or where the recipes were coming from, but she wished it was still her. Still her recipes and ideas. Her theme weeks. But Joey had gotten rid of all of that, and instead turned the account into something more commercial.

  The followers had doubled and then tripled, but the comments weren’t nearly as personal. No one was actually making the food in the videos, the way they used to when she’d first started.

  “Yeah, I’ve seen it,” she said, hoping she could keep the emotion out of her voice.

  “And?” he asked, looking at a plate as it left the kitchen. “Billy, what was that?”

  “Red snapper on the menu tonight,” Billy said without looking up from a ticket.

  “Huh,” Joey said. “Is that part of our menu?” He looked at Adele, who nodded.

  “Yeah,” she said. “It’s seafood night.” His name got people in the doors, but his executive chef really ran the place. Oh, and Billy.

  “Shrimp app,” Billy said, looking at her. “Three.”

  “Shrimp, three,” she said and deftly moved away from Joey and back in front of the stove that had pulled her away from her best friend, the ranch, her goats, and Carson.

  Months later, Adele clutched the steering wheel as she drove the rental car up the road toward Last Chance Ranch. The robot mailbox had obviously been decked out in the proper attire for Scarlett’s and Hudson’s nuptials, as it now wore a bow tie and someone had painted white wedding bells on the glass portion of his boxy chest.

  Adele smiled at Prime, the robot that Scarlett’s brother had named when they were kids, coming to visit the ranch and their grandparents. Scarlett had told Adele that story so many times, she almost felt like she’d been there when the robot was named.

  As soon as she passed Prime, her nerves returned in full force. They’d been assaulting her for hours now, on her long journey across the country.

  Scarlett had told her that Carson had left shortly after Adele had, so she knew he didn’t live here anymore. But Scarlett and Hudson had invited him to the wedding, of course, and he’d RSVP’ed that he’d be there.

  Which meant Adele was going to have to see him. He held such a prominent place in her mind and heart that she wondered if she’d even recognize him in real life. The picture of him in her mind might be different than who he was now, and she constantly reminded herself of that as she drove down the lane and parked in the driveway at the homestead.

  Instead of going straight inside though, she turned and faced the Goat Grounds, only to be met with the sight of dozens of cows across the street in the pasture where her goats used to be. Things had definitely changed around here.

  She breathed, and it was easier here than in New York, where a freak April snowstorm had practically shut down the city. She liked the easy way of life here, the way the sun shone down on everything equally, how there was no one yelling at her for a time status on a bowl of polenta or a salad with more ingredients than she had fingers and toes.

  After crossing the street, she continued toward the goat yoga arena, which now boasted a huge sign with those words arching across the entrance. She went in, noting the straw was all ready for the next session. The goats had been moved into another pasture, this one sectioned off from the cattle.

  “Hey, babies,” she said as she stepped inside. The littler goats came over, but they didn’t react to her the same way her ice cream flavored animals had. Of course, there were new babies working the goat yoga sessions now, and they were the friendliest with her. They probably thought she had graham crackers in her pockets.

  She bent down and looked into the crazy eyes of the nearest goat. “What’s your name, huh?” she asked. “I’m going to call you Peaches.” Yes, if these were her goats, they’d all have fruit names. Fuji, Melon, Pineapple.

  She smiled at her own cleverness and let her fingers trail along the back of another baby goat. Her phone buzzed out Scarlett’s notification sound, and Adele sighed. It was time to go inside, get zipped and strapped into a frilly dress, and attend her best friend’s wedding.

  Adele hesitated just before she knocked on the front door of the homestead, pushing it open as he called, “Hello? Scarlett?”

  Shrieks ensued, and Adele got caught up in the hugging and jumping up and down and gushing over her best friend’s new hair color and cut. She held onto Scarlett for longer than comfortable, her emotions spiraling around inside her.

  “Oh, honey,” Scarlett whispered, holding her tight again. “Why don’t you just come back? I didn’t give your cabin away.”

  Adele backed up and swiped at her eyes. “I’m fine. I’m just so happy for you.” And she was thrilled for Scarlett. She loved that her best friend had found a place to be, and a man to love and be loved by, and she was absolutely glowing.

  She couldn’t help wanting that for herself, could she? Did that make her a bad person, to want the joy radiating from Scarlett’s face for herself?

  She smiled, swiped one more time at her eyes, and said, “You got my new dress size, right?” She’d lost quite a bit of weight when she’d been working on the ranch, but she’d gained it all back in the city. Yes, she sweated through most of her shifts, but then she ate bar food in the middle of the night, did no other exercise, and slept poorly the rest of the time.

  “I got it right here.” Scarlett beamed at her and dashed down the hall. “Come try it on.”

  Adele glanced at the two other women in the room—Jeri and Amber—but she didn’t stay to chat. She waved at them, wishing they weren’t better friends with Scarlett than she was, and went down the hall into Scarlett’s bedroom.

  “I’m sorry,” she said immediately, bringing the door closed behind her. “I’ve been a terrible friend.”

  “You have not.” Scarlett turned, something hideously blue in her hand.

  “Tell me that’s not the dress.”

  “I can’t tell you that,” she singsonged. “Now, come put this on. It’s so pretty.”

  Adele and Scarlett had different definitions of pretty, clearly, but Adele did as her friend wanted. She let Scarlett zip her and tug on the sl
eeves, tuck something into the neck, and then stand back. “See?”

  Adele saw, and what she did, she didn’t like. She had too much sitting on certain curves, and her short hair wasn’t doing her any favors with the scooping neckline. She smoothed her hands down her stomach, but that didn’t make it any smaller.

  Scarlett hugged her from behind. “You’re so pretty. Thank you for coming.”

  Adele met her eyes in the mirror. “Of course I’d be here. I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “It’s just that…you know. Carson’s here.”

  “We’re both adults,” Adele managed to squeeze out of her too-tight throat. At least she hoped they were both adults. She was determined to sit on the side, bouquet in her hands, and keep her eyes on the happy couple. She could do that. She could.

  “Wow, I think you’re handling this really well,” Scarlett said.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” Adele asked, finally turning to look at Scarlett.

  “Adele, you’re in the wedding party.”

  “Yeah,” she said, not getting it.

  “So is Carson.”

  Horror struck Adele in the chest. She tried to shake it off. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” So she might have to be close to him for a few minutes while they walked down the aisle ahead of Scarlett and Hudson. She’d have to smell his cologne. It would be okay. She could handle it.

  The following day, the tent and chairs were set up. The trees were flowering with pink blossoms, just the way Scarlett wanted. The barn had been cleaned and decorated for the reception, dinner, and dancing.

  Adele waited until the last minute to leave her old cabin, and she just had to walk down the road toward the horse barn. She joined the other girls in blue dresses, each of them fiddling with some part of their outfit. The flowers in their hair, the straps on their shoes, or the sleeves on their dresses.

  Adele didn’t fidget or flinch, because she’d just caught sight of Carson.

  And wow, he looked amazing in those dark slacks, white shirt, and blue tie. The same blue as in the dress she wore. He adjusted his cowboy hat just as someone said, “Get in line, guys. Scarlett and Hudson are almost here.”