by Stacy Finz
“When are you going to start buying your own food?” Jace opened the refrigerator and pulled out a dozen eggs. “Make yourself an omelet, asshole.”
Sawyer swiveled on the stool until he was facing Cash. “Just met Ellie. She and the boys were headed to the barn. Good-looking kid. Bright. You sure you’re her father?”
Cash had the paternity test to prove it; Marie had insisted.
“Like all of us, the kid’s got the Dalton blue eyes,” Jace said, then proceeded to make Sawyer his omelet.
“Not too much cheese.”
Jace tossed the eggshells in the garbage. “You ever think about getting a maid?”
Sawyer grinned. “Why, when I have you?” He got up, rummaged through the refrigerator, and popped two slices of bread in the toaster. While he waited for the timer to go off, he grabbed the butter.
“Jeez, you’re eating me out of house and home.”
“You two sound like an old married couple.” Cash watched Jace plate the eggs, reached over with Sawyer’s fork, and took a bite. With a mouthful, he said, “Thanks for cleaning up my spare room for Ellie, by the way. Let me know what I owe you for the bed.”
“We took it from the guest room.” Jace tipped his head toward the staircase. “It’s old; you’ll probably want to get something better at some point.”
Cash nodded. Shipping Ellie’s old bedroom set would’ve cost more than a new one. For now, the old mattress would do, but he’d have to get her something soon. “I think the cabin gives her the creeps. You two give any more thought to what we talked about?”
“Selling?” Jace flipped the omelet. “Never gonna happen.” He nudged his head at Sawyer.
“Still no for me too. Fix the cabin up, Cash. This is a good place for Ellie. Grandpa Dalton would’ve wanted us to keep it, to raise our families here.”
That was the thing: Cash didn’t know what their grandfather would’ve wanted, because he’d failed to leave an instruction manual in his living trust. And he was tired of going around in circles with his two cousins about what they should do with the land. Sadly, they were operating under a democracy. Two against one, and even Sawyer, who had more money than both Cash and Jace put together, couldn’t afford to buy him out. Cash figured if he kept chipping away at them, they’d eventually realize five hundred acres of prime California real estate was too valuable to sit on. And lord knew they didn’t have the resources to return Dry Creek Ranch back to its former glory.
“Fine, we’ll table it for now.” Cash didn’t have the wherewithal to get into it with them again. For now, he had to focus on Ellie and hoped the horses would be a nice bribe, because he had little else to offer. Tomorrow, after she’d had a chance to settle in, he’d take her riding. “I’ve got my hands full with Ellie.”
“She really is a beautiful girl,” Sawyer said. “A little skittish right now, but she’ll get used to it here…to us.”
Cash hoped he was right. “I’m planning to take her to Roseville today to buy supplies. If there’s time, maybe we’ll hit a few furniture stores and order a better mattress.”
“You should talk to Aubrey.” Jace dipped into Sawyer’s omelet. “She gets all kinds of discounts.”
Cash walked over to the coffee maker and poured himself a mug. “Did she tell you I helped her break into her office the other day?”
“No.” Jace’s brows winged up. “She said Mercedes refused to let her in on Mitch’s orders. She broke in?”
“Through the window.” Cash left out the part about her skirt riding up, offering him a delectable view of her ass.
“That sounds like Aubrey.” Jace chuckled.
“People are talking, Jace.” Sawyer spread so much butter on his toast that Cash’s arteries hurt just watching him.
“In Dry Creek, they always do. It’ll blow over. It’s summer, folks are bored.”
“According to Jimmy Ray, old Mitch isn’t taking the breakup too well. He’s been bad-mouthing you all over town. Not good when you’re up for reelection next year.”
“It’s a county election,” Jace said. “Dry Creek is Dry Creek.”
The small ranching community had somehow managed to stay stuck in the twentieth century while the neighboring county had grown with the times. Retirees flocked to nearby Grass Valley after selling their million-dollar homes in the Bay Area and hippies and artists continued to flood Nevada City, just up the road. But even though it was a little more than an hour’s drive to Sacramento, Dry Creek had stayed relatively untouched. The same families that had come during the Gold Rush were still here and still running cattle and raising horses.
“Don’t think your opponent won’t use it,” Sawyer said.
“Nah.” Jace waved Sawyer off, grinning. “No one gives a shit about sex scandals anymore. You, a big-wig reporter, should know that. But if it becomes a problem, I’ll hire your parents to fix it,” Jace joked. Aunt Wendy and Uncle Dan owned one of the largest PR firms in Los Angeles, handling damage control for stars and politicians caught in all kinds of kink.
“In a place like this, they might,” Sawyer argued around a mouthful of omelet. He started to say more, but the sound of small feet racing down the hallway stopped him.
“You’re back already?” Jace called.
Grady came into the kitchen out of breath. “Ellie tripped on a log.”
“She’s okay,” Travis assured them as he trailed in. “We just came to get the first aid kit.”
Cash got to his feet. “Where is she?”
“Bathroom,” the two boys said at the same time.
Cash rushed through the hallway and banged on the powder-room door. “Ellie? You okay?”
“Don’t come in,” came a faint voice.
Here they went again.
“Then come out so I can see if you’re hurt.”
“I’m not hurt.”
He put his hand on the knob. “Let me have a look.”
When she didn’t respond, he opened the door. She sat on the side of the tub with the leg of her jeans pulled up, exposing a bloody scrape on her knee.
“Not so bad,” he said and crouched down for a closer inspection. “What’d you hit?”
“A rock.” Her bottom lip quivered.
He was at a loss of how to comfort her. His mother would’ve kissed the “boo-boo,” but at twelve she seemed too old for that sort of thing. There was also the fact that she recoiled every time he came near her.
Travis came in with the first aid kit and Cash immediately got to work on cleaning her cuts. At least he knew how to do that. Before long, Grady, Jace, and Sawyer were crowded into the doorway and Cash felt the bathroom shrink to half its size.
“A little space would be good.”
Jace and Sawyer backed off, but Grady stayed put and gave Cash pointers on how to clean and dress the wound.
“He’s got it, buddy.” Jace pulled the boy by the back of his T-shirt and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
Travis handed Cash a bandage from the kit.
“Did you get to see the horses?”
She nodded, and Grady took over, describing in vivid detail how they’d climbed over the corral fence to pet Amigo, Jace’s prized gelding, when Ellie tripped over the log. “She came this close”—he showed them with his hands—“to smashing her head on the gate. Kapow!”
“Hey, Grady, enough,” Jace said.
Cash applied the bandage and helped Ellie pull her pant leg down. “I guess we don’t have to amputate after all.” He winked, and she responded by staring at the tile floor.
Jace gave Cash a sympathetic glance.
“We best be on our way if we plan to drive to town.” Cash stood up and offered Ellie a hand, which she instantly rejected, getting to her feet on her own.
As they walked out of the bathroom, Sawyer mussed Ellie’s hair. “You did good, kid
. Toughed it out like a real cowgirl.”
Cash could’ve sworn he saw a ghost of a smile flicker across Ellie’s face. That was Sawyer for you. He could charm a feral cat, proving there really was no accounting for taste.
“You want to go home first and change into something cooler than your sweater?” Cash asked as they walked to his SUV. The ranch house was only five minutes away from the cabin by car.
“No.”
“All right. But if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to change into a pair of shorts.”
Cash took the fire trail back to the cabin and threw his SUV into Park. “You coming in?”
He expected Ellie to say she’d wait in the truck, but she surprised him by following. On the doorstep, someone had left a basket decoratively wrapped in cellophane, ribbon, and a bow. He carried the package into the house and set it on the table.
Ellie flopped onto the sofa while he went inside his bedroom to change. When he came out, she was standing over the basket, poking at the envelope that had been taped to the ribbon, and jumped away, afraid he’d think she’d been snooping.
“What does it say?” He hadn’t noticed the enclosure card before and simply assumed the basket was from one of the ladies in town who’d heard about Marie’s funeral and about Ellie coming to live with him and wanted to welcome her to Dry Creek. That’s the way people did things around here. Grandpa Dalton used to send steaks. “Go ahead and read it.”
“I just wanted to see if it came from Linda.”
“It might’ve. Let’s take a look,” Cash said, though he didn’t think companies like FTD delivered out here. He removed the envelope from the basket and noted that it was monogrammed. A. M. He sliced open the flap and pulled out a flowery piece of stationery.
“Thanks for helping me the other day. Enjoy the cookies.” It was signed Aubrey.
He tore open the cellophane wrapper, plucked out what appeared to be a snickerdoodle, and took a bite. “Not bad. It’s from the neighbor. Taste one, they’re pretty good.”
Cash pushed the basket toward Ellie, whose face fell. She’d probably been hoping for a one-way airplane ticket back to Boston.
“No, thanks.” She wandered back to the couch.
“Should we make a list of supplies?” He thought if he included her, she might be less reticent, and got a notebook out of the kitchen junk drawer. “We’ll add anything you think you’ll need.”
“Can’t I just go home?”
This is home, kid. “Ellie, you’re not even giving it a chance. I understand that this…me…is a big change from what you’re used to. I really do. But I would appreciate it if you at least tried to get to know me a little.”
“Why should I? You never got to know me.”
Was that what Marie had told her? He wanted to ask, but less than a week after putting Marie in the ground seemed like the wrong time. “We can talk about that, Ellie, but not today. Okay?”
“Whatever.” She shrugged, but he could tell she wasn’t as apathetic as she let on. “I need a better pillow. The one you gave me is hard as a rock.”
“I’ll put it on the list.”
Chapter 4
Aubrey peeked through the blinds for the seventh time, watching as Cash and his daughter lugged in at least a dozen packages. There were Target bags, grocery bags, and a giant sack from Bed Bath & Beyond.
Her curiosity got the best of her and she went outside to get a better look, pretending she just wanted to sit on her front porch in the hundred-degree heat. No sense in Cash thinking she was nosy, because no one wanted a snoopy neighbor.
His daughter was adorable but looked like she was sweltering in that heavy sweater. Aubrey wanted to introduce herself and ask if they liked the cookies she’d delivered that morning but didn’t want to disturb him while he was busy unloading his SUV. Besides, she took him for the aloof type, even though he’d been kind enough to help her sneak in and out of her office the other day. Of course, there’d been the not-so-subtle hint about Jace and his bid for reelection. Looking back on it, that had probably been Cash’s motivation for helping her in the first place.
Aubrey tried to look busy in her rocking chair, scrolling through her phone, all the while sneaking glimpses of the logos on the bags. It appeared Cash was planning some home-improvement projects, which was right up her alley. And less noisy than shooting Jim Beam bottles all day.
Cash shielded his eyes with his hand and gazed at her from across the creek. “Thanks for the cookies,” he shouted over the rush of the water and went back to unloading.
She stood up and leaned across her porch railing. “I’m glad you liked them.” Now that he’d opened the door, she felt emboldened to cross the small footbridge that separated their two cabins and say hello. “What have you got there?” She nudged her head at one of the Home Depot packages.
“We did a little shopping.” He waved over his daughter, who’d for the most part been sitting on her hands while he did the bulk of the work. “Ellie, this is Aubrey, the cookie neighbor.”
The cookie neighbor? She supposed she’d been called worse.
“Hi, Ellie, so nice to meet you.” She couldn’t help herself and gave the girl a hug. She looked like she needed one. “Welcome to Dry Creek Ranch.”
“Hi.” Ellie dropped her gaze to the ground shyly.
“Don’t you just love it here?”
“I guess,” Ellie said with about as much eagerness as a rock. “It’s not as nice as Boston, though.”
“It’s different, I suppose. Have you gone swimming in the creek yet?”
“No, it looks cold.” She toed a clod of dirt with her tennis shoe.
“It’s not so bad,” Aubrey said, even though she’d only dipped her feet in since moving to the ranch. Cash, on the other hand…She felt her skin flush at the memory of him swimming naked. He certainly hadn’t shown any signs of shrinkage, so how cold could the water be?
Aubrey carried on a steady conversation with Ellie, enjoying her accent. It wasn’t as thick as the Kennedys, but Aubrey noticed Ellie dropped her Rs from time to time. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cash leaning against the hood of his SUV, watching her.
When there was a lull in the conversation, he asked, “You break into any more offices lately?”
“Not lately.” But if she didn’t get a job in the next couple of months, she’d have to hold up a Bank of America.
“Planning a home improvement project?” Aubrey pointed at one of the shopping bags.
“We’re fixing up Ellie’s room. Jace said you might be able to help us with furniture.”
“Absolutely.” Ooh, Aubrey brightened. “What did you all have in mind?” A little project would distract her from the rumors swirling around town.
“Ellie needs furniture. A bed, dresser, desk, whatever else she wants.”
“How exciting,” Aubrey said, and noted the girl appeared anything but. “Do you have a style in mind, Ellie?”
Ellie hitched her shoulders and frowned. “I’m good with what’s there because I’ll be going home to Boston soon.” She drilled Cash with a look.
Uh-oh; clearly Aubrey was missing something here. She didn’t want to get in the middle of a family squabble but relished the chance to decorate a little girl’s room. So much of her work was designed to sell homes, meaning the appointments had to be generic enough to appeal to a mass audience. She loved projects where she could let loose and build an entire space around one person’s personality.
“Ellie, we talked about this,” he told his daughter, sounding frustrated. Then he turned to Aubrey. “So you’re willing to take this on?”
“Definitely. How about I bring over some catalogs and you and Ellie can show me the things you like?”
“Sounds good. When?”
She laughed. Cash Dalton got right down to business. That was okay, because Aubrey h
ad nothing but time these days. Besides, she was intrigued by the father-daughter dynamic she witnessed, which, judging by their body language, appeared strained to say the least. “Why don’t I let you put away all your purchases and I can come over in an hour or two. Does that work?”
“Ellie?” Cash looked at his daughter.
“Whatever.” Ellie twirled her dark hair.
She was a beautiful little girl who looked strikingly like her father. Aubrey could tell she was also a handful like her dad. But she’d dealt with plenty of difficult clients. A twelve-year-old wouldn’t be too tough to tame.
“See you in a few, then,” Aubrey said.
She crossed back over the footbridge to her cabin, marveling at how beautiful the day had turned out. Even though it was hot, there was a nice breeze blowing through the trees.
She was loitering on the porch, taking in the view, when her phone started ringing. Aubrey rushed inside and grabbed it off the coffee table, hoping it was someone looking for an interior designer. She’d spruced up her Houzz profile and was in the process of updating her résumé.
“Aubrey McAllister here.” She tried not to sound out of breath.
“Hi, Aubrey, it’s Ruth Singleton.” There was a long pause. “Um… bad news, sweetie. Cole and I have decided to put the pool house project on hold.”
“Oh?” Aubrey dropped onto the couch, surprised. Just a week ago, Ruth had been gung ho about remodeling her thousand-square-foot pool house. They’d already special-ordered flooring and fixtures that were nonrefundable. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is everything okay?” It was probably unprofessional to ask, but she had a sneaking suspicion the sudden change of plan was tied to Aubrey’s breakup with Mitch. Perhaps it was the saccharine quality of Ruth’s voice, which sounded more affected than usual.
“Oh, you know… the money. It just got to the point where the project became cost prohibitive…and, uh, overwhelming.”
“I understand, Ruth, and I’m sure Reynolds Construction does too.”
Ruth responded with another awkward pause, telling Aubrey all she needed to know. Mitch still had the job, while Aubrey had been cut loose.
