by Lori Wilde
“Don’t listen to him,” Turpin said. “He’s just trying to scare you off.”
“Who asked you?” Joe glowered, wondering why he was discouraging her. Dutch would have loved the idea of Mariah making Jubilee her home.
“Mr. Turpin, your estimate is too high,” Mariah said to Lee. “I appreciate you coming all the way out here, but I think I’m going to have to go with a more economical plan.”
“I could go lower,” Turpin stroked his gaze down her body. “For you.”
The sexual innuendo in the other man’s tone had Joe’s hands springing into fists again.
“How much lower?” she asked, tightening her arms under her chest.
Turpin’s stare hung to the smooth curve of her breasts covered in a bright red sweater. “What are you willing to pay?”
“You’re not honestly considering hiring him,” Joe interjected.
“I need this done on a shoestring budget.” Mariah shrugged. “If Lee can help me . . .”
“I can do that,” Turpin said.
Joe drew in a slow breath. He wanted her to stay. One look at those soft lips, and messy desire rolled through him sizzling hot, molten fried. “You’re serious about this?”
Mariah’s chin notched up. “Yes, yes, I am. I’ve always been the kind of woman to bloom where I’m planted. I ended up here, it’s time for me to blossom.”
He liked her philosophy, even if he didn’t like the way she was going about it. He felt torn in two directions. Part of him ached for her to stay, but another part of him was scared as hell that she’d be the ruin of him. “You’re going to have people traipsing through my property all hours of the day and night consulting about wedding plans, disrupting my horses,” he grumbled, his contrariness fretting him.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” she said. “I want to build a real road out here so my clients don’t have to bump through your cow pasture to get here.”
“You want to pave my land?”
“Not your land,” she corrected. “The easement.”
“He’s just pissy because things have changed,” Turpin said. “Joe doesn’t handle change well. Now about that price—”
“Shut up, Turpin. This is between me and Miss Callahan.” Joe muttered, his gaze pinning Mariah to the spot.
She notched her chin upward, clearly not going to back down, but her tongue flicked out to touch her top lip with uncertainty. She had a right to pave the easement for improved access to her place, but he wasn’t about to admit that. “I can do it without your permission.”
Joe glared, at a disadvantage. What was wrong with him?
Turpin moved a few steps toward Mariah, met Joe’s eyes with a taunting dare.
Don’t rise to the bait.
Turpin leaned in closer. So close that he was almost touching her. Aligning himself with her, and Joe knew Lee had nothing good on his mind.
She looked so tiny standing beside him and yet so fierce. Life could run her down. People could betray her. And still, she’d fight. But she looked so vulnerable that he felt his heart melt into a puddle of chocolate. He could no more hurt her than he could hurt a kitten abandoned on the roadside.
“I’ll do it,” Joe said. “Me and my ranch hands, we’ll build your chapel for free.”
Mariah floated into Jubilee, an indelible smile on her lips. Joe had offered to build the chapel for free. She knew it was partially due to Lee Turpin standing on her front porch, but part of her hoped it was because he wanted an excuse to be around her. She’d seen the way he looked at her. Knew the way he made her feel.
It was both scary and exhilarating.
But now she’d made a commitment to stay in Jubilee, and while Joe might be offering his labor up for free, she still had to pay for supplies, and that wouldn’t come cheap. Plus the road needed to be paved and the horse barn transformed into a venue for wedding receptions. So she’d made an appointment with a banker at the First Horseman’s Bank of Jubilee. She planned on putting the property up for collateral.
Her own wedding planning business.
Mariah’s pulse quickened at the thought. She’d always wanted to do this, but she’d been too comfortable working for Destiny. For the first time, she considered that getting fired had been a blessing. That gave her a shivery feeling of fate.
Now, she was positively euphoric. Joe was going to help. Her dream was within her grasp. She walked into the bank, marveling at the smell of money, at the gleam of the golden fixtures, at the slow, lazy turn of the overhead ceiling fan, at the photographs of horses on the wall. In her mind’s eye, she could see the chapel filled with wedding guests, a cowboy groom and cowgirl bride exchanging vows.
It felt good. It felt real. It felt right.
The receptionist greeted her, told her to take a seat, and gave her a loan form to fill out. A few minutes later, she called Mariah in to meet with one of the loan officers.
“Come on in, Ms. Callahan.” The woman behind the cherrywood desk waved her inside. She had a thick mane of black hair with a ruler-wide stripe of pure white surfing the right side of her midpart, making her head look a bit like a lopsided skunk. “I’m Nancy Hickok. Yes.” She laughed. “I’m distant kin to Wild Bill.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You’re Dutch Callahan’s daughter.”
“I am.”
“I’m so sorry to hear of his passing. Dutch was quite the character.”
“Thank you.”
“Please take a seat.”
Mariah sat.
“May I?” Nancy held out her hand for the loan form.
Mariah passed it over to her, suddenly feeling nervous and self-delusional.
Nancy studied the form for a long moment. “You’re employed as a waitress at the Silver Horseshoe.”
“I am.”
“You’ve been working there for less than two weeks.”
“I have.”
Ms. Hickok frowned. “You want to start a wedding planning business.”
“I do.”
“Do you have a business plan?”
“Yes.” She reached in her purse and drew it out. She’d written up the business plan the night before.
“Very good.” A smile replaced Hickok’s frown. She read the plan. “Oh, this is excellent. You have experience in the field of wedding planning.”
“I worked for the best wedding planner in Chicago, Destiny Simon.”
Hickok blinked at her; a few strands of the white streak broke loose from the pack and trailed across her eyebrow. “If you worked for the best, then why did you leave?”
Hot seat question. Mariah rubbed her palms against her thighs. Great, show her just how nervous you are. How best to answer? “I . . . um . . .” She cleared her throat, scrambling for a good response. Briefly, Mariah closed her eyes. She was sunk. “I was fired,” she admitted, her earlier euphoria gone like air from a balloon.
“I see.”
“Will that affect my ability to get a loan?”
“No.”
Mariah let out a pent-up breath.
“But I simply can’t give you a hundred thousand dollars.”
“I’m putting the cabin up for collateral.”
Nancy’s laugh rolled off the office wall. “Dutch’s cabin?”
“Yes.”
“Honey, that thing is termite-riddled and falling in, and that paltry land isn’t worth much either.”
“How much could I get?”
“Ten thousand tops.”
Poof! There went her dreams. That’s what she got for getting her hopes up.
“There’s nothing else I could do? What if I throw in Dutch’s truck too?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“I have no recourse at all?”
Nancy settled back in her chair, stroked her pencil between her two fingers. “Have an upstanding member of the community cosign the loan for you and maybe I could go fifty thousand.”
Okay, all right, this was the universe’s w
ay of telling her that she wasn’t supposed to stay in Jubilee and start a wedding planning business. Ultimately, this wasn’t what she really wanted anyway. Planning cowboy weddings. She belonged in the city. Everything was settled. Joe planned on buying the land back from her and she could let him off the hook about building the wedding chapel on her property. The man had enough on his plate getting ready for the upcoming Triple Crown Futurity without adding her to the mix. Besides, she knew he only agreed to do it to keep Lee Turpin from coming around.
Yes, it was a sign. Wait things out. Pursue her dream later. It made the most sense. If it made the most sense, then why did she feel so disappointed?
She started Dutch’s truck, planning on heading back to Stone Creek, when her cell phone rang. “Hello?”
“What are you doing right now?” Clover asked.
“Nothing.”
“Great, could you come by the bar? I’ve got something I need to show you.”
“What is it?”
“Just swing by,” Clover said, and then hung up the phone.
The bar didn’t open until five P.M. so Mariah wasn’t expecting to see a conglomeration of vehicles in the parking lot. Her curiosity piqued, she parked, got out, and went inside.
“Surprise!” chorused a dozen voices.
Mariah startled. Blinked at the people assembled. A banner strung over the bar said: “Welcome to Jubilee, Mariah.” “What is this?”
“It’s a surprise party, welcoming you into the fold.” Clover grinned and gave her a hug. “You’re part of our community now and we were hoping you’d join the Jubilee Cutters Co-op. Let me introduce you to some of our members.”
With a hand around Mariah’s waist like she was family, Clover guided her around the room, introducing her to everyone. A lot of them she’d met waiting tables at the bar, and effervescent Prissy, she already knew.
“I’m so happy you decided to stay here and build a cowboy wedding chapel I could bust.” Prissy hugged her hard. “You won’t regret it.”
“How did you find out about that?” Mariah asked.
“It’s Jubilee. It’s hard to keep a secret around here. And FYI, Lee Turpin is a huge gossip.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.” Yeah, so much for that. She’d be gone soon enough now that the loan had fallen through.
Someone pressed a glass of punch into her hand. Someone else herded her toward the hors d’oeuvres. The entire group was bubbling about the upcoming futurity and the chances of Joe’s Miracle winning it. Most felt confident he was going to beat Lee Turpin and Dancer.
They talked to Mariah about Dutch. Sang his praises. Told her how wonderful her father had been. Mariah pasted a smile on her face, nodded. It was nice of them to throw her a party, but she felt out of step with the crowd. She was an exile in the land of cutting horse people. The talk swirled and swayed over her head. Cutter’s cross, cutter’s slump, cutting for shape. Deep cut, draw, dry work. Hot quit, herd holder, leak. Sticky, time line, turn-back horse. Stay hooked.
“Cool boots,” said a pregnant woman sitting at the end of the buffet table. She had hair the color of gingersnaps.
“Thanks.” Mariah wriggled her toes.
“I can’t wear boots anymore. My feet swell. These puppies could out sponge a sponge.” She lifted her feet, revealing that she was wearing a pair of decorative flip-flops.
“I’m still getting used to the feel of cowboy boots. They’re . . . um . . . different.”
“You’re adapting quickly. It took me a lot longer to get accustomed to the cowboy way of life. My name is Lissette Moncrief, by the way.” The woman patted the bottom of the chair beside her. “Have a seat.”
Mariah liked her instantly and settled into the chair. “You’re not from Jubilee?”
“Dallas,” she said, and gave Mariah a little wink. “I understand the culture shock of coming from a big city to Cutterville. It’s like stepping back in time.”
Mariah laughed. “How’d you end up here?”
Lissette placed a hand around her rounded belly. “My husband, Jake. He convinced me Jubilee was a better place to raise kids. He’s from here.”
“What does Jake do?” Mariah asked.
“Once upon a time, he was a cutter.” Lissette’s face clouded, her mouth thinned, and her blue eyes took on a faraway expression. “But now he’s a soldier. He’s in Afghanistan.”
“Will he be home in time for the baby’s birth?”
A small smile played at the corners of Lissette’s mouth. “That’s the plan.”
“Do you know what you are having?”
“A boy. Jake is so proud.”
“It must be tough on you with Jake being out of the country.”
Lissette nodded. “But at least I have the co-op.” She waved at the people gathered around them. “They’ve all been so good to me. I feel like I’m never alone. They keep me sane.”
“That must be a nice feeling.”
“But this bunch does take some getting used to,” Lissette admitted. “They’re a town of eccentrics.”
“Eccentrics?” Mariah raked her gaze over a cowboy who had two fingers pressed to the side of his head and was leaning over, pawing the ground, imitating a bull as he expounded on the cutting horse story he was telling.
“Okay.” Lissette smiled. “Cutting-horse-obsessed kooks. But goodhearted cutting-horse-obsessed kooks.”
“Do you work outside the home?” Mariah asked.
“I used to,” Lissette said. “I’m a pastry chef and I worked for the largest wedding caterer in Dallas.”
“Really?” Excitement shot through her. At last. Someone in Jubilee she had something in common with. She almost asked Lissette if she’d be interested in a job working for her as a caterer, but then she remembered Nancy Hickok had put a quietus on that dream.
“Now all I do is sit around and watch my feet swell. Doctor’s orders.”
“Sounds very weighty.”
Lissette groaned, laughed. “You have no idea, but I made the petits fours. What do you think?”
Mariah bit into one of the little cakes on her plate, moaned with pleasure at the taste of rich dark chocolate with raspberry frosting. “Divine.”
“I think it’s why Jake married me. Key to a man’s heart is through his stomach and all that.”
“If that’s the key to a man’s heart, then I’m in trouble,” Mariah confessed. “I burn water.”
“So what do you do?” Lissette asked.
Mariah told her.
“Wedding planner, hmm. We could use one of those around here.”
“My thoughts exactly, but I can’t get a small business loan,” Mariah said glumly, and gave her the details of her meeting with the loan officer.
“Who needs a small business loan?” Clover asked, coming over to plop down in the chair across from Lissette.
“Mariah,” Lissette said. “She wants to start a wedding planning business but Nancy Hickok won’t give her one without a cosigner.”
Clover looked at Mariah. “I’ll cosign the loan for you.”
“I can’t let you do that,” Mariah protested.
“Why not?” Clover waved her hand at the room. “I have no one to leave my vast empire to.”
Mariah gulped. “I just realized that if I started a wedding planning business, it will be taking money out of your pocket. I can’t do that.”
“Honey, you’d be doing me a favor. I’m getting too old to host these wedding receptions. I was looking to get out from under the responsibility.”
Mariah’s heart picked up a restless rhythm. “You’re serious?”
“Serious? No. I’m only serious about cutting. But sincere, yes, I’m sincere.”
“No. I can’t accept it.” Mariah shook her head. “What if I fail and cause you to lose your money?”
“Here’s a thought. What if you succeed and cause me to make money?”
“How would that work?’
“I bet on you and you don’t let me down.”
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“So no pressure, huh?”
Clover grinned. “Not at all.”
“Why would you do that for me?” Mariah asked, incredulous.
“Honey, I changed your dirty diapers. We’re like family. Now let’s go see Nancy Hickok.”
Chapter Thirteen
There’s magic and then there’s miracles, they ain’t the same thing.
—Dutch Callahan
Mariah drove back to the ranch on a celebratory high. It was her day off from the Silver Horseshoe, she had fifty thousand dollars in the bank, she was within weeks of making all her dreams come true, and the first person she wanted to tell about it was Joe. He hadn’t been at Clover’s party because he was too busy training Miracle.
Her life had been a series of disappointments, but this time she wasn’t going to let anything stop her. She’d found herself unwillingly plunked down into a lemon grove, but that meant she had all the tools she needed to open a lemonade stand, and that’s exactly what she intended on doing.
Bloom where you’re planted.
Something Dutch used to say to Cassie when he’d drag them to yet another dead-end spot. “Bloom where you’re planted.”
So now you’re living by the gospel of Dutch?
Hey, the man must have done something right. Everyone in Jubilee loved him.
She pulled to a stop outside the ranch house at Green Ridge and got out of the truck.
Joe was in the corral sitting in a cutter’s slump on Miracle’s back and they were playing a game of can’t-get-past-me with a curly-haired Hereford calf.
The calf dodged left, so did Miracle. Then the calf would dart right, but Miracle was a step ahead of it. Back and forth, over and over. Frustrated, the calf bawled for its mama.
She walked toward the corral fence. Joe hadn’t seen her yet. His attention was glued to the calf. He wore a blue chambray shirt open at the collar, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing those ropy forearms thick with dark black hair. Chaps covered his strong legs, and his black cowboy hat was cocked back on his head. Watching the man and horse move as one sent a wave of emotion swimming through her. It was like the most beautiful dance in the world.
