by Julie Benson
“That’s putting it mildly,” he teased, and a pretty rose color spread across her cheeks.
“How ungentlemanly of you,” she tossed back. Her spring green eyes sparkled the same way the grass did when covered with the morning dew. “Now quit trying to discourage me.”
Was that what he was doing? Maybe he was, but she got him thinking. When was the last time someone else had been this excited about his business?
Aubrey had never shown much interest in the ranch or the tourism business. Even his mom didn’t love the ranch the way he did. She valued the place because she’d grown up here and it had been her parents, but the land wasn’t a part of her the way it was for him.
“I bet people would love to have pictures from their ranch experience,” Cassie said.
“That’s why they take photos.”
“They take ones of other people doing things. What I’m talking about is pictures of them while they’re riding, roping, or whatever. I can do that for them and make photos available for purchase.”
“If someone wants a picture of himself he asks someone else to take it.” He hated to discourage her, but there were so many holes in her idea he could drive his herd through them. “Why would people want to buy photos when someone with them could take them?”
“Good question and I have a great answer.” She flashed him a bright smile, and he almost tugged his Stetson further down on his forehead to shield his eyes. “First of all, a person has to decide he wants a picture of something ahead of time and think to ask someone to take it. Then that person has to stop what he’s doing, which detracts from his experience. Secondly, if that person wants to be in the picture too, they have to rely on yet another person. Why shouldn’t it be me? And lastly, as I said, my father was an award-winning photojournalist. He always said I had his eye with a camera.”
Ty nodded as he realized where she was heading with her idea, and while he didn’t think it would be a gusher income wise, it wasn’t worth discouraging her. “What you’re saying is your photos won’t be those silly posed pictures people usually show their friends after a vacation.”
“Exactly. This will be action shots that truly capture their experience. They’ll be professional, artistic photos. Way better than what the guests could take.”
Ella trotted past them on Crunchie, her face beaming, and they both dutifully waved.
He mulled the idea over trying to calculate cost versus potential benefit. “What would you need to get started?”
“That’s the best part. I have my father’s digital camera. I can download the photos onto my laptop for guests to view before they leave the ranch. When they make a purchase, I’ll put them on a flash drive to take with them. All I have to buy is a few flash drives, and that won’t cost much”
Maybe her idea wasn’t half bad. “I’ll do some research to see what we should charge.”
She smiled, reached into her skirt pocket, pulled out a folded paper and handed it to him. “I’ve already done that. Here’s my official proposal.”
The paper crinkled as he opened it. She’d written up a proposal? Cassie, miss fly by the seat of her pants, make a decision on a whim had researched her idea and written it down? That meant she was serious. The thought and her effort she’d put into this idea left him stunned.
“But there’s more,” she said, leaning closer to point at the paper. Her floral scent mixed with turpentine and linseed oil teased his senses, kicking his body from business mode into interested male mode. The images on the paper blurred. He swallowed hard and tried to restart his brain.
“I could do charcoal sketches, water colors, or larger paintings of the photos I take for guests. I could even do ones of their kids, pets, whatever. All I need is a photo. I can ship the artwork to them when it’s done. I might be able to finish smaller sketches and watercolors before they leave town if they’re staying for a few days. If you could make room for me to display some of my new work for people to see my style, I think that would be help sales.”
“I’m impressed. You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“Turns out sitting in the car pool lane waiting for Ella is a great time to think and plan. I really want this idea to work.”
He studied her proposal and noted any money received from work contracted while a guest was at the ranch would go to the tourist business. “This can’t be right? You don’t want a percentage from the artwork sold at the ranch?”
She shook her head. “The ranch is creating the demand. Plus I’m being paid a great salary. One I’m incredibly thankful for. This is a way for me to financially contribute to this business, and it’s important to me to do that.”
He stood there dumbfounded. Not sure whether to be elated or concerned. Lauren never showed an interest in his business. Whenever he brought up the subject, she let him get the words out, but then turned the conversation back to her dreams and how he could help her achieve them.
Why would this woman, one he’d known a short time, show an active interest in his business? Wait a minute. Why wouldn’t she? Part of the business belonged to Ella. How could he have forgotten that?
“However, if I get commissioned work after a guest leaves I think me keeping seventy percent of that money is fair. Is it a deal?”
She held out her hand.
There was the catch and what she was getting out of this, but so what if she used this to rustle up new client? He wasn’t the kind of guy to cut off his nose to spite his face. As long as he made money and offset some of the cost of her salary why should he care about her motives?
Because he liked the idea of her wanting to help him out.
His hand clasped hers, surprisingly strong and firm. All the while he ignored the little voice telling him to take her in his arms. “I think that’s the calmest negotiation we’ve ever had.”
“Great. I’ll take pictures starting this weekend, and now it’s time for Ella and I to head home. We’re having breakfast for dinner so I can do a trial run of Saturday’s breakfast.”
Back on comfortable footing, Ty said, “Word around town is that the breakfasts at the Bluebonnet Inn were first class like a fancy hotel.” Chloe once told him she taken cooking classes from some five star chef when she lived in Chicago. She’d even managed to sweet talk him out of a few breakfast recipes. “You sure you’re up to that considering every restaurant owner in town recognizes your voice because you called so often?”
“I’ve been cooking more.”
When she chewed on her lower lip he knew she was stretching the truth, and he couldn’t help teasing her, just to see her get flustered. “Microwaving leftovers and macaroni and cheese out of a box don’t count. You sure you can handle breakfast for the guests?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and flashed him an offended glare. “You hired me to run the inn. You need to trust me to do my job.”
Trust her. Not by a long shot.
*
After leaving the ranch, Cassie and Ella headed into town to pick up groceries for the big weekend. She also ran into Margaret’s Boutique on Water Street and bought a brown pair of cowboy boots with some pretty scrollwork stitching. It wouldn’t do for her to look like a greenhorn with the tourists. She shook her head. The word greenhorn was now part of her vocabulary.
Then not wanting Ella to feel slighted, they went to the children’s clothing store down the street where her niece picked out almost identical boots.
When they returned home and Cassie walked into the kitchen, memories of time she’d spent with Chloe bombarded her, evaporating the glow from the high she’d been on from the great afternoon.
As she placed the groceries on the granite countertop, Cassie realized this room was the toughest one for her to be in, probably because Chloe said her kitchen was the house’s heart. The hours Cassie had spent her with her sister at the cozy, kitchen table, talking about their lives, plans, hopes, and dreams hung in the air, haunting her.
“I love having breakfast for di
nner,” she said as she and Ella unpacked the groceries. “Whenever my mom asked what we wanted for dinner, your mom and I always said waffles and bacon. That was our favorite.”
At the mention of her mother, Ella stiffened. Tears glistened in her too old gaze, and Cassie cringed. She never knew which was worse, mentioning Chloe and Jack or avoiding the subject.
“Let’s get cooking,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could dredge up, and she opened her sister’s recipe binder. As she flipped past pages, noting the photos of beautifully plated food, her confidence waned. The couple coming had stayed multiple times, so no way she could fake her way through this. If her food wasn’t up to standards, they’d know it. Now she wished she’d paid more attention when Chloe cooked breakfast while she sat here sipping on her morning coffee. But she’d been too focused on whatever painting she was working on and if she’d be ready for her next show.
“Do you think the guests would mind if I served Cheerios—with fresh strawberries and blueberries, of course—instead of one of these fancy breakfast dishes?” Cassie asked Ella who stood on a chair beside her.
In response she received an eye roll. Cassie giggled. “I’ll take that as a no.”
She’s communicating. That’s progress. Every tiny step forward was a blessing.
“I guess you’re right, Ella. They wouldn’t go for cereal.” Of course, after they tasted her cooking, Cheerios might taste pretty darn good then.
What her sister once said floated through Cassie’s mind. When people stay here, they want a great breakfast. Something special that when they remember it brings a smile to their face.
That had been her sister’s goal. Great. No pressure there.
A little voice taunted that she had a goal—create something edible that wouldn’t make the guests sick. How pathetic was that?
Vowing she could do this, she harnessed her optimism. “Okay, sous-chef, Ella, you set to get cooking?” The child nodded, and Cassie found the recipe they’d selected earlier, Ella’s favorite cinnamon swirl sour cream, maple cream cheese, strawberry, and bacon breakfast cupcakes.
They couldn’t just call them cinnamon breakfast cupcakes? Hopefully the recipe wasn’t as complicated as the name. After all, how hard could making cupcakes be?
Big talk from a girl whose cooking experience consisted of microwaving leftovers from local takeout joints.
Cassandra, you really should learn to cook before you go to college. Chloe found being able to throw together a few meals helped her save money. Plus, it’s a great way to impress a young man.
Ignoring the little voice of doubt as well as her mother’s, Cassie scanned the recipe and almost sighed in relief at how easy the beginning sounded. Turn on the oven and mix the dry ingredients.
Easy. Just like following science experiment directions in high school. She closed her eyes, visualizing the finished product matching the downloaded photo as she placed them in front of her guests. Her insecurities banished and her confidence bolstered to face the challenge ahead, she opened her eyes and set to work.
With Ella’s help, they gathered the necessary dry ingredients, measured, combined them in a bowl, and set that to their left. Cassie glanced at the recipe. “Now to the fun part. The creating. It’s kind of like we’re mad scientists.”
She moved the heavy duty stand up mixer further out on the counter. When they finished mixing the cupcakes and poured the batter into the tin, Ella’s eyebrows scrunched together in a familiar way. How often had Cassie seen the same look from her sister when she’d been confused or disappointed?
Cassie peered at the lumpy mixture bearing a striking resemblance to oatmeal and winced. “I’m guessing from your look that your mom’s cupcakes never looked like this?”
Ella shook her head.
“So mine won’t be as pretty. Once we get the maple frosting and bacon sprinkles on top no one will notice.” At least that was what she was counting on as she headed for the oven, popped the cupcakes inside and set the timer. “I think we did pretty well for our first try. Now how about we watch a movie while these bake?”
Ella nodded, and they headed for the living room. Once there Cassie told Ella to pick the movie. No way was she navigating that land mine. What were the people who made kids’ movies thinking? Hunters shot Bambi’s mom. Aladdin was an orphan who stole food from street vendors to survive. In Frozen, the parents went on a trip, got shipwrecked, and died. Sure movies needed conflict, but couldn’t it be something other than a child having to survive without caring parents?
About twenty minutes into Despicable Me a charred smell wafted into the room. Cassie turned to Ella. “Do you smell something funny?” Like something was burning, funny, but not wanting to scare her niece Cassie kept those thoughts to herself.
Ella nodded and they headed for the kitchen. So much for a fairly successful first attempt. From the acrid smell Cassie guessed the cupcakes were charcoal briquettes. So she’d plan B it and purchase fancy little pastries or a quiche for the guests. No big deal, she thought as she pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen. Smoke billowed over her, stinging her nose and eyes. She stood there waving her arms like a giant condor to clear out the haze when the smoke detectors went off.
“Fire!”
Chapter Nine
‡
Ella’s high pitched scream mixing with the blare of the smoke detector tore through Cassie as she glanced at the oven. An orange glow flickered in the window of the stainless steel door.
Panic, blinding and hot, raced through Cassie as she scooped up Ella. The child’s thin arms tightened around her neck. In an even voice as she headed to the front door, she said. “I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, but we’re going outside.”
Once in the driveway, knowing she still couldn’t give in to her fear, Cassie smiled as she set Ella down and dug her phone out of her skirt pocket. Her hand shaking she dialed nine-one-one. Her voice surprisingly detached, she explained the situation to the dispatcher and asked the woman to send a fire truck. A fire truck! She’d caused a fire making cupcakes. Who would’ve thought cooking would be so hard and starting an oven fire so easy?
She felt a tug on her skirt. “Is our house going to burn down?” The child’s voice broke. Her wide blue eyes filled with tears as she gazed up at Cassie.
In her panic, Cassie had forgotten Ella had finally said something. That was the good news. Something to hold on to. Cassie smoothed a hand over Ella’s blonde curls.
“No, sweetheart. It won’t. The fire won’t spread from the oven.” Or at least she hoped not. Didn’t ovens have a feature to prevent that kind of thing? She knelt in front of Ella and wrapped her arms around the child, holding her close.
“The house won’t burn down,” she continued with more confidence. “I was being super duper cautious calling the fire department. I bet if we went inside right now we’d see the fire’s out. When I was your age, I remember the fire fighter who spoke at school said never deal with a fire on your own. Even a little one like the one in our stove. He said to get out and call the fire department, so that’s what I did, but everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”
I’m not doing so hot in the making her feel safe department. That’s got to change.
Now all she had to do was figure out how to make good on her promise.
*
Ty wandered into the kitchen for a snack and found his mom cooking dinner. The yeasty smell of baking bread filled the room, making his mouth water. No bread machine for his mother. She still preferred the old school way. He walked to the stove and peered into pot. “Beef stew. My favorite.”
“You can help me peel potatoes,” she said located the peeler and handed it to him. “That’ll give us a chance to talk.”
He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “Anything in particular on your mind?”
“I’ve been wondering how things are going with Cassie and Ella.”
As he set to work on the potatoes, he told his mot
her about the report Cassie received from Ella’s teacher.
“That’s wonderful news. I enjoy having Ella and Cassie around. This place is too quiet. I think that every year after the boys leave.”
“Have I thanked you lately for letting them invade the ranch every year?”
“After four years of Corps events, they’re family, and I love each one of them, but Lord knows they can be a little overwhelming. They’re good for you, though, and not just because they get you out of the house. You need to that more often, by the way.”
Ty tensed, knowing from past experience where it led when his mom used a phrase like that. “I’m in town all the time.”
She scoffed and tossed him an unimpressed mom look. “Working with the Chamber of Commerce, volunteering on church work days, and running to the feed store don’t count. You’re way too young to become a hermit.”
Sensing she was fixing to launch into one of her you-need-to-start-dating-again-so-you-don’t-spend-your-life-alone speeches, he said, “Can we skip the social life discussion today and agree to disagree?”
“I don’t want to see you become bitter. I’d like to have grandchildren some day.”
Apparently they couldn’t. “Lucky for you, I’m not an only child.”
Another motherly glare pinned him. “I don’t want you to spend your life alone.”
“I could say the same about you,” he said, in the hopes that the best defense was indeed a good offense.
“Which brings up something else I wanted to talk to you about. I found a house in town and made an offer. The privacy will be good for both of us.”
“I told you not to move on my account.” Despite what he said, part of him agreed with her. When he’d first moved back, he considered remodeling and adding onto the barn to make a small apartment, but money always seemed to be needed elsewhere. He handed her the potato he’d peeled and grabbed another.
