He’d been searching for his deceitful brother, following leads, knocking into dead ends and restarting his hunt over and over. Once Wes had his inheritance in his hands, then he’d have a direction. Only then could he rebuild his family’s home and legacy on Colorado soil again.
But those painful details were Wes’s personal business.
It was exactly like he’d told Abby. Three Springs was only ever a temporary port. Not his permanent future.
Wes pushed his hat up his forehead and tipped his head toward the ranch house. “Looks like the appraiser might be finished. Want me to talk to him?”
“Leave him be.” Boone scowled, then turned away from Wes. “Rescued horses and an old man with roots deeper than his family tree aren’t in his job description.”
“Where are you going?” Wes asked.
“Into town.” Boone lifted his cowboy hat off his head and ran his fingers through his hair as if fixing himself before walking into the historic church. “Gonna consult my financial adviser.”
“Sam Sloan is not a financial expert,” Wes said. The two men were best friends, comrades and coconspirators. But neither one had a degree in finance or a deep retirement fund.
“When you’ve lived through year-long droughts and tornadoes and been chased by an irate bull on more than one occasion and survived, you become something of an expert on life.” Boone stopped and set his hands on his hips. “That’s Sam and me.”
“I’ll come with you,” Wes offered. “We can look over your personal financials at the bar. Talk through the options.”
“You’ll stay here and make sure that new mare and her foal are settling in,” Boone ordered. “And you’ll come to the bar for your shift as usual. Unless you’re ready to discuss the only option that makes the most sense.”
Buying the bar outright. Stepping in like an impostor into his best friend’s legacy and hometown. Trespassing on his best friend’s life. What if Wes failed? What if he couldn’t measure up to Jake or to Boone’s expectations?
Wes took his hat off and tapped it against his leg. “Tell Sam not to order today’s special. The chicken tortilla soup will be too spicy for his stomach to handle.”
Boone’s smile was weak. “Never thought I’d ever meet a man more stubborn than Sam.”
Wes knew one. His name was Boone Bradley. He left him and walked toward the stables.
He’d check on the horses quickly, then run another online search for his brother before he went to the bar. He had to find his inheritance. It was possible he’d have the money to purchase the land for Boone and still have funds leftover to begin his life by buying back his family’s land in Colorado.
That was his place, and he knew it.
Rebuilding what his family once had and honoring their memory. Fixing past wrongs. Wrongs that might not have happened if only he’d been there for his family. If only he’d been there working the ranch beside his brother.
But none of it would happen if he failed to find Dylan and the lost inheritance.
CHAPTER FIVE
ABBY SPREAD THE classified section of the Wednesday edition of the Three Springs Standard across the checkout counter in the general store. She uncapped her marker and scanned the employment offerings. They included a handful of jobs ranging from ranch hand to cutting-horse trainer to distillery-grain operator.
The listings for resale furniture and roommates outnumbered the available jobs four to one.
“That can’t be all.” Abby opened the paper wider and smoothed her hand over the black-and-white comics covering the adjoining page. Surely, there were other businesses hiring in Three Springs. More than the ranches and the local whiskey distillery. She had experience in several different fields. Her résumé read like a sampler box of multiple tea varieties. She’d dabbled in everything from retail to media to the corporate world. But that hardly left her uniquely qualified as a heavy-equipment operator or a herd manager.
“What’s wrong?” Tess worked to straighten one of the shelving units. An entire section slanted sideways. Inventory would simply slide to the floor if they used it.
Abby folded the paper, picked up the to-go coffee cup from the Feisty Owl and swallowed her worry. She wouldn’t dull Tess’s good mood. She’d find a job, even if as a last resort she had to convince Wes to hire her. He could use a capable hostess, not that Boone wasn’t already the perfect greeter. “I’m already out of decaf coffee.”
“There’s more across the street.” Tess laughed.
“We have a lot to do.” Abby tugged on her cleaning gloves. She admitted she found her cowboy attractive and would manage that unwise realization better if she wasn’t forced to see him for work every single day. “I’ll start over here.”
Tess and Abby scrubbed and polished every surface and leveled every shelf. Testing each one for sturdiness and strength. They shared a high five once they finished.
The brass shopkeeper’s bell above the main doors chimed.
Abby and Tess turned together to see who was there. A tall, thin gentleman with a herringbone fedora angled on his head held the door open for a petite woman. The woman’s wide-brimmed straw hat and crimson lipstick gave her a decidedly retro vibe.
“Frieda. Gordon. Welcome.” Tess peeled off her work gloves and brushed her hands on her jeans, then introduced Frieda Hall and Gordon Rivers to Abby. Tess added, “Frieda, your waffle iron hasn’t arrived yet. I expect it will be another day or so.”
“That’s wonderful, dear.” Frieda untied the red silk bow under her chin, removed her hat and set it on the counter. “I’ll be making fried chicken and waffles this weekend. I’m bringing my award-winning dish to the gardening club on Saturday. You and your cousin should consider joining us.”
“We’d love to, but we’re quite swamped getting the store ready to open.” Tess’s voice balanced perfectly between gracious and apologetic.
Abby offered Frieda a soft smile, grateful for her cousin’s quick reply.
“Next time, then.” Frieda brushed her fingers over her side-swept silver-white bangs and pointed a polished fingernail at Abby and Tess. “Be sure to mark your calendars. We meet the second Saturday of every month, rain or shine. There hasn’t been a Roots and Shoots meeting canceled in the last ten years.”
That was certainly a dedicated group. Abby’s thumb was more brown than green. And she doubted the garden-club members would appreciate her fondness for artificial-succulent gardens.
“Is there something I can do for you?” Tess asked.
“Boone sent us over. Straightaway.” Frieda’s smile widened. Her round, dark brown gaze landed and stuck like syrup on Abby.
“We’ve come to speak to Ms. James.” Gordon wiped a handkerchief across his forehead and motioned between himself and Frieda. “Frieda and I sit on the town council.”
Abby pulled off her cleaning gloves and dropped them on the counter. What could the town council want with her? She’d been in Three Springs only two days. “Me.”
Tess dropped her tools into the toolbox near her feet and whispered, “Abs, you didn’t damage any public property when you wrecked your car, did you?”
“Only if a pothole counts as public property.” Abby squeezed Tess’s arm.
Gordon lifted his fedora and patted at his bald head. “We have bigger problems to focus on at the moment than our county’s potholes.”
“Corine Bauer is on bed rest.” Frieda’s hands flew to her face as if she’d just spoken ill of one of her long-lost ancestors. “As of this morning. Full bed rest until the dear soul delivers.”
Gordon dabbed his forehead again.
Abby wanted to offer the gentleman water or a fan or a chair. Except the only refrigerator with cold drinks, working fans and comfortable seats were upstairs in the apartment. The store needed a commercial refrigerator. Stools at the counter. And a stronger air conditioner.
“Corine Bauer keeps the town together.” Frieda clutched Gordon’s arm and tapped her ivory leather Mary Jane heel.
“That’s an understatement,” Gordon muttered.
“Now Corine needs an assistant,” Frieda said.
“I can do that,” Abby blurted.
Gordon paused middab and eyed Abby. “But can you put together a town event by Labor Day weekend?”
Labor Day. That was less than four weeks away. Sure, she’d planned matchmaking events in less time. Of course, she also had been relieved of her matchmaking position. The HR director had cited a company reorganization as the reason. But Abby had read between the lines. She’d been a bad fit for the role. That wasn’t relevant now. Only the current job offer was. “What kind of event do you want?”
“The kind that will draw tourists and locals alike.” Frieda splayed her hands in the air in front of her. Her words lifted as if she was the soloist in the church choir. “The kind of event that will grow each year and establish Three Springs as a place to visit annually.”
“You want all that in less than a month.” Doubt and surprise vied in Abby’s voice.
“We have to have it.” Gordon folded his handkerchief and returned to mopping his forehead. “Or the land developer will walk away and choose another town to invest in.”
“Can’t allow that.” Resolve stiffened Frieda’s shoulders. Determination clear in her words. “Three Springs needs opportunity. Growth.”
“And the businesses need business.” Gordon arched an eyebrow at Tess. He shifted his perceptive gaze to Abby as if he knew full well Tess could not pay the electric bill let alone herself and Abby.
“You want an event that will show the land developer that Three Springs is worth the investment.” Sounded simple and impossible at the same time.
Still, excitement uncurled inside her. This was her chance. Forget the general store. She could put Three Springs on people’s radar. Turn a sleepy town into a destination hot spot, not just another dot on the map. Then she would have finally made her mark too. No one would be asking her to leave or consider her a failure then.
“That’s exactly what we want,” Frieda said, beaming.
“Can you do it?” Gordon’s sharp gaze settled firmly on Abby.
Abby stopped fidgeting. She had to look confident to be confident. A lesson she’d learned from her temporary stint as a dog groomer. That and proper grooming equipment mattered. She had no equipment to prove she could do this particular job. Except her belief in herself. If she intended to level up like her podcasts advocated, she had to take risks. Step outside her comfort zone. She pushed her shoulders back.
“If you succeed, you’ll be hired full-time as Corine’s assistant.” Frieda held out her hands as if she read the title from a lit marquee sign on the side of a building.
Abby glanced at Tess. Worry shifted through her cousin’s gaze. The same worry that wound through Abby. Could she plan and execute the kind of event the town council expected? In time? She couldn’t afford not to try.
“Will you excuse us one minute?” Tess tugged Abby into the dark storeroom.
“Vacation and benefits are included,” Frieda said in a singsong as if she’d just explained that she’d added fresh-picked strawberries to her homemade lemonade at the garden-club gathering.
Tess clutched Abby’s shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Abs, can you do this?”
“There’s medical benefits, Tess.” Abby brushed her hand over her stomach.
“It’s a big job.” Tess never blinked. “Have you ever planned an event on such a large scale before?”
“I planned events for the matchmaking company,” Abby said, hedging.
“And...” Tess pressed.
“And I matched five couples that are still together.” Never mind that she’d never reached the quota of matches required by her boss during her seven-month tenure. Or that every event she’d put on had gone over budget. “I’m more qualified for this than the ranch-hand positions listed in the newspaper.”
“I have insurance money from Eric’s policy.” Tess chewed on her bottom lip. “It’s enough for us to live on for a little while. You don’t have to rush into anything.”
Abby shook her head. She refused to be a drain on her cousin’s finances. It was time she stood on her own. Proved something to herself and everyone around her. “You don’t think I can do this, do you?”
Doubt tightened across Tess’s face.
Not her cousin too. She forced herself to sound upbeat. She believed in herself—she’d make that be enough for now. “I see no other options, Tess. Besides, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“Where do you want me to begin?” Tess blanched. “There’s the risk with opening this store and flopping. Where will we go then? There’s your baby coming soon. Babies need homes and things. Now the town council has pinned their hopes for the growth of Three Springs on you and your event. You could disappoint an entire town. It’s so much.”
Put like that, it was heavy and overwhelming. Abby’s earlier excitement fizzled into a simmer.
“I’m worried.” Tess lowered her arms and grabbed Abby’s hands. “For you.”
Abby replayed those podcasts she’d listened to, searching for the right words to convince them both this wasn’t a mistake. “I heard recently that worrying snowballs and eventually tramples your happiness.”
“That’s not helping me feel any better.” Tess looked defeated.
“Well, we can stand here, keep on worrying, and accomplish nothing.” Abby linked her arm to her cousin’s and headed for the doorway. “Or we can put our energy into doing something positive and be happy while we do it.”
Joy did not infuse Tess’s tone. “You’re accepting the job, aren’t you?”
“I know what I’m doing.” She had to prove she could do one thing right. That she could not only imagine but also execute her ideas effectively. Then that would surely start a chain reaction of wins for Abby like the podcasts had preached. Her life would become a series of victories, rather than starts and stops. She would finally add value to the world. Finally be seen.
She stopped behind the checkout counter and smiled. “Frieda and Gordon, I accept the job.”
“Wonderful!” Frieda clapped. “Simply wonderful.”
Gordon exhaled and nodded slowly. He tucked his handkerchief into the back pocket of his khaki pants as if he’d suddenly overcome his heatstroke.
Tess remained quiet and still behind the counter.
“Tell us what you need, and we’ll do our best to help.” Frieda settled her straw hat on her head, tied the fabric under her chin to secure it. The entire time, she swayed as if she was humming a tune only she could hear.
Gordon’s teeth flashed behind his suddenly cheerful grin. He held his arm out for Frieda and escorted her to the front doors.
Abby called out, stopping the pair. “I need a large meeting space.”
“For how many?” Gordon twisted around. “The largest conference room in the town hall fits about forty-five comfortably.”
“Much larger than that.” Abby touched the dampness on the back of her neck. Her nerves twisted.
Frieda blinked. “Do you intend to have a meeting with the whole town?”
“That’s exactly what I intend.” There was nothing like jumping in with both feet as if she knew the landing would be fine. She knew nothing. That was why she wanted to meet with the whole town.
“But—” Gordon started.
Frieda cut him off. “But you’ll have to give folk more than a day’s notice for this meeting. Saturdays are best.”
“Right.” Abby reached for the pencil on the counter and one of Tess’s note cards from the stack.
“People are off on the weekend.”
“No one takes time off from their ranch.” Gordon’s voice turned defensive. “Ranching is a way of life. We live it every single day.”
“I don’t need long,” Abby rushed on. “Only the lunch hour. Even ranch owners eat lunch, right?”
“There’s only one place big enough to hold the locals and feed everyone.” Frieda’s smile broadened.
Gordon nodded again, slow and precise. He knew the exact place too.
A bad feeling—the kind she got when she’d been called for the unscheduled meeting with the HR director and subsequently lost her job—overtook her.
“The Feisty Owl is the place you’ll want.” Frieda shrugged as if everything was settled.
Gordon tipped his hat, wished both Tess and Abby a good day, then slipped outside with Frieda.
Of course it was the Feisty Owl. Abby was going to hold a town-hall-style meeting in a bar. Why not? Nothing about her job interview or her hiring had been conventional. The older duo had never even inquired about Abby’s qualifications. Never asked for more references than Boone’s recommendation and Abby’s family ties to Tess. Worse, Abby had never asked about the pay, the job description or the budget for the event.
But she had the promise of a full-time job. She had hope again. And one stubborn cowboy wasn’t going to sidetrack her.
“Where are you going?” Tess asked.
Abby pushed the twin doors open. “To secure my meeting venue.”
And to prove to that same stubborn cowboy that her new life was definitely in Three Springs.
CHAPTER SIX
“WHATEVER IT IS, it’s a no.” Wes wiped a thick microfiber towel over a bottle of whiskey and never looked at Abby.
Abby pulled up short on the other side of the aged bar top, set her hands on her hips and stared at Wes. Stubborn man simply went on polishing. Abby batted away her irritation. “How do you know I’m not here for more coffee?”
The Texas SEAL's Surprise--A Clean Romance Page 5
