Pressure built in his lungs as he stepped into the lobby. “Can I ask you one thing?”
She nodded, standing in the door of the elevator.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were moving?” His heart pounded. “Why didn’t you ever write or call me?”
She was silent for a long moment. “I guess some things are better left in the past.”
#
The glow of the laptop broke through the darkness of the condo’s living room. Lucy scrolled down further on the webpage.
Orange Polenta Cake
Almond Cream Cheese Frosting
Chocolate Tiramisu
Like so many restless nights before, lulling her brain into a fog with online recipes served as a lousy substitute for sleep. When she couldn’t endure another late-night infomercial, she would curl up on the couch with her computer and troll through foodie websites. Tonight, no matter how hard she tried, her mind drifted back to Dylan Lawson.
It didn’t seem possible that the broad-shouldered cowboy was the same lanky kid who used to struggle to keep up with her on their bikes. The one who had always been taking care of his little sister or helping his dad because his mom wasn’t around. The boy who had pestered her for an entire summer when she’d secretly relished his attention.
She tried to bury thoughts of Dylan along with all those other memories she never wanted to resurface. Memories of her father. Memories of the accident.
But seeing Dylan again made that impossible. She’d left without saying goodbye, thinking she’d never have to face him again, and after everything, he’d still taken up for her to the bride’s kooky grandmother.
Paige shuffled out of her room, her hair in a messy bun on top of her head and her eyes only half open. “Don’t you ever sleep? Why do we pay for a two-bedroom if you spend all night in here on your computer?”
She wished she could sleep. If insomnia stopped plaguing her, she might feel human again. Tonight not even the photos of a Pear and Walnut Torte kept her mind from spinning.
Her stepsister rubbed her eyes and trudged to the kitchen on the other side of the breakfast bar. “I waited for you to come home, but I finally gave up and went to bed. Out on a hot date?”
Lucy scoffed. “Hardly.” She’d hung out in the cookbook section of the bookstore down the street until they’d closed, afraid if she’d come home, Paige would tell her she hadn’t gotten the catering job.
Paige opened the refrigerator door, and light flooded the dark room. “What’s going on with you and Reed? I heard you had dinner with him the other night. Are you getting back together?”
“No,” Lucy said. “I mean, I don’t think so. He’s the one who recommended me to his uncle for the job.”
“Wow. That was nice. Sounds like a guy who’s interested in rekindling something.”
He was being more attentive and thoughtful lately—even more so than when they were dating. “I don’t know if I want to go down that road again.”
“Why not? You made a great couple.”
On paper they were perfect for each other. He was handsome and successful. They were both devoted to their careers. Even her stepfather approved of the ambitious young attorney. She’d ended things because he’d always seemed more interested in his career than her, but recently, things had been different. “It’s too early in the morning to think about my love life.”
Paige pulled a blanket from the back of the couch. “More like your lack of a love life.
“Ouch!” It was true that she hadn’t dated much, but she didn’t have the time.
“I’m only kidding, but I didn’t get out of bed to talk about that. Heather and Wyatt made a decision about the catering.”
Lucy braced herself for bad news. “What is it? They want calf fries at their wedding?” If she was ever going to make her mom and stepfather see past the fact that she’d lost her last job, she needed a chance to impress the investor. Opportunities at big name restaurants didn’t open up every day. If this didn’t work out, any other job would be a huge step backward for her career and her reputation.
Paige cleared her throat. “Heather’s grandmother came up with a plan.”
Nana. Lucy sat up, her computer almost sliding to the floor. Any idea hatched by that woman wasn’t going to do Lucy any favors. “What kind of plan?”
Paige curled a blue throw pillow into her lap. “The bride loved your food.”
“But?”
Her sister’s gaze moved down to the water bottle. “Nana adored Dylan’s peach cobbler.”
Lucy cringed. It was probably the same recipe Mrs. Hooper taught them. “I can make cobbler. I just didn’t think it would be sophisticated enough for this kind of wedding.”
“Here’s the thing,” Paige said in the same tone she used when talking down frantic brides. “Nana wants you and the cowboy to work together to create a menu that would work for both the bride and the groom. She wants you to mix your two styles together and come up with something great.”
Lucy slid the laptop from her legs and switched on the lamp. It was clear Nana’s opinion was the only one that mattered in this situation. “She wants me to cook with Dylan?”
Paige turned toward her, her knees sinking into the couch cushions. “This is a good thing. They’ll still pay you a fair salary. You’ll still get your food in front of the investor.”
Sure, served with a side of pork and beans! Lucy stood. “No one will want me to work in their kitchen after eating cowboy wedding cuisine. Dylan and I will both look ridiculous.”
Paige tilted her head to one side. “Ridiculous or not, Nana convinced Heather that she needs to begin her marriage with love and compromise.”
Lucy paced across the carpet in her bare feet. More like basing a marriage on appeasing the bride’s loony grandmother. “This will ruin my reputation as a chef.” Okay, she’d admit she was being a tad melodramatic, but she was at a loss for how to pair her cooking style with Dylan’s, and the last thing she needed was for Dylan to outshine her again.
“You and Dylan can agree to cater the wedding together, or they’ll make me find someone else.”
Lucy pinched the bridge of her nose. “I thought you told me this catering job was a sure thing. That the tasting was just a formality.”
They only had two months until the big day, and there was no time for mistakes.
“It was until the groom invited the cowboy,” Paige said. “Treat this like you would any other kitchen. Go in there and take charge like you always do.”
Lucy stopped and clung to the edge of the bar. She had been known for being tough at work, but she’d been determined to earn respect in the male-dominated kitchens. “It’s not that easy with Dylan.”
Paige shook her head. “Why not?”
Lucy squeezed her eyes closed, sick about how she’d treated him. How would she work with Dylan after shutting him out of her life? “There was this kid who I hung out with one summer.”
Paige slumped back on the couch. “In Highland Park?”
“No. Definitely not in Highland Park.” Lucy couldn’t imagine Dylan in their stepfather’s fancy house in the gated neighborhood with the manicured lawns. Of course, she’d struggled to fit into that life herself even when she’d desperately wanted to. “It was before Mom met your dad.”
“Where are you going with this?”
Lucy sighed. “His name was Dylan Lawson.”
Paige leaned forward and gasped. “You know the cowboy?”
Lucy lowered herself onto the couch. “I only knew him for a few months when our dads happened to work at the same ranch. We lost touch when I moved.” Lucy had left without saying goodbye. After her mother’s whirlwind romance and engagement, Lucy had resolved to cut ties with her old life and try to make her way in the new and strange world of wealthy kids and private schools.
Paige crossed her legs under her and faced Lucy. “So you two were friends?”
Lucy shrugged. What they’d had landed somewhere between friends and
rivals.
“If you guys are old buddies, it’ll be no problem for you to cater the wedding together.”
Her pulse pounded. “I don’t even know how to reach him.”
Paige stood and dug through an overfilled white binder on the coffee table. She thrust a yellow post-it note out to her. “He’s working on his dad’s ranch. Here’s his number and address.”
What would she say to him? “And if he doesn’t want to work with me?”
Paige pushed the paper into her palm. “Then I guess you’ll have to tell everyone—the investor, mom and dad—that you didn’t get the catering job.”
#
With frustration about the day before still gnawing at him, Dylan wrapped the lariat into a loop, letting it run across his callused palm. He swung it and lassoed his sleeping dog. Red, the blue heeler he’d had since high school, blinked up at him and then laid her head back on the brittle grass.
He stared out toward the herd, now in the front pin. “I wish you’d waited on me before you moved cattle yesterday. Your back is still healing.”
His father looked up from under the hood of his beat-up Ford truck. “Don’t worry. I didn’t ride horseback. Did it all from the cab of this truck.”
Dylan should have been there, but he also knew how much a little extra money from a big catering job would help.
“Where were you anyway?” his dad asked.
Dylan scrubbed his hand between Red’s ears before picking up the rope. “Trying to get a job cooking for some fancy wedding in the city.” Dylan readjusted the now sweat-soaked straw hat back on his head. “If I get the gig, it would be a good chunk of cash.”
His dad dug through his toolbox. “If?”
Dylan picked up a wrench balanced on the edge of the truck bed and handed it to him. “The day didn’t go like I’d expected.” The fact that Lucy wanted to keep him in her past felt like a hot branding iron. “I hope I didn’t ruin my chances, because I know we could use the money.”
His father’s gaze moved to the old truck that needed a new transmission. “We need whatever we can get to pay off those hospital bills. Plus, land payments are high. Every rancher I’ve ever worked for has had struggles. You’d think I would’ve been ready for it.”
Dylan gave a heavy nod. But this time it wasn’t someone else’s ranch. This was his father’s lifelong dream. After Mr. Hooper had passed away, Dylan’s father had purchased what was left of the Lone Tree Ranch. It had given him his own cow-calf operation and an opportunity to call the shots. But luck and timing hadn’t proven to be on his dad’s side, especially after his last back surgery. “I thought things were improving.”
His dad shrugged. “What can I say? The medical bills keep rolling in.”
Dylan would do everything he could to keep his promise of staying to help until his dad could handle the ranch on his own—financially and physically. And then he’d leave the ranch and go…where? The life he had with Annie in Cheyenne was gone. He’d enjoyed the ranches where he’d worked, but he wanted to be more than a hired hand his entire life.
He’d taken on the occasional catering job, but until this latest opportunity, it had never paid enough for him to consider it a career. He wanted to prove to his sister that it was never too late to start pursuing your dream. But could he really make a go of it? He wasn’t at the same level as Lucy. “Things will work out.” But even as Dylan said the words, he didn’t know if they were true. They hadn’t worked out with Annie. Everything had fallen apart despite his best efforts.
His father rubbed his hand across his lower back as he walked around the truck. “So what happened yesterday?”
Dylan leaned his forearms on the closed tailgate beside him. “I was competing for the job against a woman I used to know.”
His father raised a thick eyebrow. “An ex?”
“Nothing like that. You might remember her. Lucy Pickett.”
“Charlie Pickett’s daughter?” His dad chuckled. “You were so in love with that cute little farm girl that your tongue practically hung out of your mouth when she came around.”
“I wasn’t in love with her. She was impossible. Still is.”
“You were smitten.”
Maybe. “I was fourteen.” If it weren’t for everything he knew now, he might have still been a little smitten with Lucy. But if he couldn’t make it work with Annie, he certainly wouldn’t be able to figure out someone like Lucy, who had complicated written all over her.
His father squinted toward the barn, the leathery skin under his eyes wrinkled. “Is she married? Have a boyfriend?”
He hadn’t seen a ring on her finger. “Didn’t seem right to ask, since she didn’t even recognize me.”
His dad sucked air through his teeth. “Ouch.”
“Yeah.”
He straightened his shoulders. “I guess it’s for the best. It takes a special kind of woman to stick with a cowboy.”
His mother hadn’t been able to handle a life on the ranch with her two kids, but his dad never talked about it. They’d figured out how to get by without her. Dylan had kept them fed and watched out for his little sister until they were grown, and his dad had done the best he could to make a decent living.
Tires crunched up the gravel drive to the house, and they both turned to find an SUV creeping toward them. Red jumped up from where she lay in the sun and barked at the vehicle.
“You expecting company?” his dad asked.
He shook his head. Behind the windshield, a woman in sunglasses leaned toward the steering wheel as she drove. “Lucy?” What was she doing here?
She parked behind Dylan’s truck, and stepped out of the car looking dead sexy in tall black boots with skinny heels.
His father let out a low whistle. “Sure doesn’t look like the little farm girl I remember.”
With the dry summer air suddenly feeling hotter, Dylan stared out toward Lucy as she tiptoed through the beat-down grass path toward the barn. “So you wouldn’t have recognized her?”
“No, but I recognize that look on your face.” His father slapped him on the back. “Roll that tongue back into your head, son.”
Dylan blew out a breath, annoyed that he suddenly felt fourteen again. Dylan didn’t have any business having feelings for Lucy. He knew better than to get interested in someone like her. Not to mention that she was out of his league.
Lucy slid her sunglasses on top of her brown hair, which fell around her shoulders. Her gaze darted to the rickety old farmhouse. He’d never noticed how badly the porch needed a new coat of paint.
When he was able to pick up his heavy feet, he went to meet her, his dad chuckling as Dylan walked away.
Lucy looked out toward the barbed wire and crooked fence posts. After a moment, she turned back to him. “I hope you don’t mind that I stopped by.”
He studied her face and her milky skin, his mind racing with questions. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Paige had your address.” Her attention moved to the farmhouse and back to him. “I had no idea your father owned the place now.”
He nodded. “It probably looks different.”
“Actually, everything is a lot like I remember it. It feels strange being here.”
It had felt just fine until she showed up. But now he had to agree—strange was an understatement.
She fidgeted with a silver key ring. The natural confidence she’d had in the kitchen had given way to unease. “I wanted to apologize. For giving you a hard time, and for…well…how everything ended when I left the ranch.”
After more than a decade, she was apologizing? It was no explanation, but he’d take it. He rubbed his hand across his jaw. “So why did you come?” If they were still teenagers, he’d have pushed his fist against her shoulder when all he’d really wanted to do was kiss her. Maybe that would bring back the Lucy he used to know—a playful punch on the shoulder. Or maybe it was the good long kiss she needed.
The keys jingled as her arms fell to her sid
es. “They want us both to cook for the wedding. I came to convince you to take the job with me.”
The two of them planning a whole wedding feast together? They’d hardly been able to work together in the kitchen for an hour the day before. Cooking with Lucy could end in disaster. They were both cooks, but the similarities between them ended there. Their lives had taken two very different roads. “No offense, but I work alone.”
She crossed her arms. “A high profile event like this could transform a career.” A crinkle of worry appeared between her eyes. “If you don’t agree to do this with me, neither of us will be catering the reception.”
It was amusing to watch Lucy climbing down off her high horse, but getting involved with her seemed like a mistake. “We have a lot to do around here on the ranch.” He glanced back at his dad, who was trying unsuccessfully to start the engine of the old truck.
She stepped toward him. “We have less than two months until the wedding, and Nana really wants…” Lucy stopped, her nose wrinkled. She lifted her boot and groaned.
Dylan laughed as she scraped the sole across the dirt. The Lucy he used to know would have never forgotten to watch for cow patties in the pasture.
She held her foot up behind her and wobbled on the thin heel. Dylan put a hand on her arm, holding her steady. “I’m guessing you haven’t been out of the city in a while. Trying to walk through this pasture in those fancy shoes is like trying to rope a calf with a ribbon.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, a smirk across her lips. “Don’t forget that at one time I was better at roping than you.”
They’d spent the summer burning up the dirt road between her house and the trailer home his family had lived in. “I haven’t forgotten. You came by it naturally. Your dad was one of the best ropers and bull riders on the circuit.” Before the rodeo accident had stolen that away.
Lucy cleared her throat. “A long time ago. I probably wouldn’t remember how to climb into a saddle these days.”
“It’s like riding a bike. It’d come back to you.”
The Art Of Falling Page 10
