by Merry Farmer
“What?” Ted asked, though it was unclear if he was asking what she was afraid of or whether he’d had a hard time hearing her.
She ignored him either way and finished off her sandwich. “I’ve got stuff to do,” she said as she loaded her dishes into the dishwasher.
“Are you going to fax the order forms Dad filled out yesterday? Because there are a few other things I’d like to add if you are.”
Casey shook her head as she straightened. “Did it yesterday. I have errands in town.”
Ted’s eyes narrowed again, and a grin spread across his lips. “Meeting up with anyone I know?”
She arched a brow at him and moved to wash her hands in the kitchen sink. “Dusty Montrose.”
Ted’s grin fell into confusion. “What do you want from Dusty?”
“None of your business.”
Casey gave him one final teasing, sisterly grin, then turned and marched out of the room.
“Okay,” Ted called after her. “Well, tell ‘Dusty’ I say hi, and that if he wants to come over for supper some night soon, he’s more than welcome, considering he’s about to be our closest neighbor.”
“I’m not meeting Scott,” Casey called over her shoulder as she marched out the side door and down to the gravel drive where their trucks were all parked.
As she drove into town, she tried to generate enough indignation to be angry with Ted for assuming she had the hots for Scott. He had no right nosing into her business and assuming her good mood was due to hormones. It absolutely was not. But it was a relief on one level to have something she could throw her whole attention into, especially something that felt like a competition. She missed competing. It had been such a big part of her life before her mom died, but now….
She cleared her throat to chase away the sudden bloom of grief in her chest, alarmed that a huge streak of guilt came with it. She had nothing to feel guilty about, she reminded herself as she turned into the contractor’s parking lot of Montrose Lumber, just outside of Haskell proper. Her decision to quit rodeo was a practical one. The ranch needed her time. It had nothing to do with how badly it hurt to continue competing without her mom there to cheer for her.
She cut her truck’s engine and cut that train of thought off with it. Today wasn’t about the past, it was about doing whatever it took to preserve things for the future. She slid out onto the gravel, sucking in a breath of icy air. A light snow was falling, but that wasn’t enough to slow her down.
It wasn’t enough to slow Montrose Lumber down either. January was far from the busy season for builders, but the extensive Montrose family managed to find enough business to keep all of them working at top speed. Casey had to search through the yard and into the warehouse before she found Dusty, busy negotiating with a contractor.
“Hey, Casey,” Dusty greeted her with a wave that turned into holding up a finger, asking Casey to hold on. “So that’s delivery next Thursday, and I’ll have the windows to you a week from Wednesday.”
“Thanks, Dusty.” The contractor touched the brim of his cap and gave her a smile that said he appreciated far more than just her business savvy before heading back outside.
Dusty grinned and rolled her eyes, then headed over to Casey. She was in her forties, but still drew men to her like bees to honey, even when she was wearing work overalls, a flannel shirt, and a thick, unbuttoned, wool jacket.
“Jim.” She shook her head as she came to stand in front of Casey. “I like him. I don’t have to flirt or encourage him at all, and he still buys from me like I’ve promised him a hot night out on the town.”
Casey laughed at the quip. “Maybe you should treat him to that night on the town.”
Dusty’s brow lifted in surprise. “I’ve got no incentive to date right now,” she said, then moved right into, “You’re certainly in a good mood.” She looked genuinely pleased by the fact too.
A flash of irritation at having her mood noticed again gave way to the energy of the plan Casey had formulated earlier. “Say, Dusty, I need your help with something.”
“Okay.” Dusty blinked, shifting her weight. “What do you need?”
“You know Scott Martin?”
Dusty grinned. “The guy you were talking to at Howie’s party before New Year’s?”
Casey blew out a frustrated breath. “Yes, him, but that wasn’t what you think.”
“The two of you looked pretty into each other,” Dusty said. “Someone said they saw you walking together in town last week too.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“And good for you.” Dusty ignored Casey’s protest and thumped her arm. “It does my heart good to see you smiling again. Your mom would be so happy.”
It felt like a stone fist had wrapped around Casey’s chest and squeezed. This wasn’t the way her mission was supposed to go. “No…it’s not…I’m not….” She heaved a sigh and pressed her gloved fingers to her temples. “I need you to do something for me,” she said.
“Sure, anything,” Dusty said, a little less certain, studying Casey closely.
Casey took a breath to get back on track. “Scott thinks he’s going to build a house on our ranch.”
“Yeah, I know.” Dusty crossed her arms, brow knit as if she was trying to figure the conversation out. “He already paid for the lumber and supplies.”
“No!” Casey’s arms dropped to her sides. “No, I need you to cancel the order.”
“What?” Dusty blinked. “I’m not sure I can do that. His check already cleared and everything.”
“But I need you to cancel it,” Casey pleaded. The plan had seemed so simple in her mind. She and her family had known Dusty and the Montrose family forever. It had seemed obvious that Dusty would take her side against an outsider.
“I can’t, honey.” Dusty’s expression filled with concern that filled the knot in Casey’s stomach with acid.
“He can’t build that house,” she went on. “It’s bad enough that my dad thinks it’s okay to carve up our ranch, but if Scott builds some fancy, off-grid house, people will try to copy him.”
“I’ve seen the plans,” Dusty said cautiously. “Scott asked me to take a look and advise him on what materials he needed. It’s a great plan. And yeah, people might come take a look to try to copy it.”
“But that would be a disaster,” Casey went on. “It’s one house now, but if this catches on, all of the historic ranches will be carved up and sold as subdivisions.”
Dusty opened her mouth to reply, but shut it again and studied Casey for a minute before saying, “I don’t think that’s very likely. And I’m not going to renege on the sale. I need the business.”
This wasn’t going at all like Casey had planned. Worse still, the emotion that filled her chest was far more akin to the misery she’d felt through the nightmarish months before her mom’s death than anything she’d felt when she simply didn’t get her way before. Flashes of sitting by her mom’s bedside as cancer aged her to an old woman in a matter of weeks, battled with her focus on the situation in front of her.
“But don’t you care about tradition?” she argued, knowing she sounded weak. “Don’t you care about Haskell families and our history?”
“Of course I do.” Dusty laid a sympathetic hand on Casey’s arm. “Have you considered finding out more about Scott’s building plans? I mean, you might change your mind when you see them. And Scott seems like a great guy. You two looked good together.”
All Casey could go was growl in frustration. Why did everyone keep telling her to talk to Scott? Why was everyone insisting that the two of them would make a great couple? Just because she had shown interest in a guy in public for the first time since her mom died….
“Look, if you won’t help me, I’ll find someone else who will,” she snapped.
Dusty surprised her by answering, “I think that sounds like a good idea.”
Casey blinked, completely thrown.
Dusty sent her a sympathetic smile and squeezed her arm a
gain. “I think it’s a good idea that you find someone who can help you.”
At last, genuine anger burst through the layer of confusion and grief that seemed to have formed around Casey’s emotions. “Excuse me,” she snapped. “I didn’t ask for your advice. I’m fine.”
“I’m not saying you aren’t,” Dusty started.
Before she could finish, Casey turned and walked away. She stomped all the way back to her truck, misery growing more and more sour inside of her. She shouldn’t have snapped at Dusty. She was only trying to help. But everyone was always trying to help or tell her she should get help. No one seemed willing to let her deal with her grief in her own way. And no one understood that right now, she needed to fight.
The sudden desire to go find Scott and yell at him for a while took her by surprise as she turned on her truck. She pulled out of the lumber yard and actually headed into Haskell instead of home. Venting her frustration on Scott would make her feel loads better.
Maybe.
Possibly.
Why was her first impulse to be near Scott Martin, of all people, when she was upset?
She reached the intersection that would either take her to Main Street or on to the PSF building. The light turned green, but she continued to sit there, wondering what she should do. It wasn’t until someone honked behind her that she turned onto Main Street. She’d go find Melody. Scott was probably working. Melody would be working too, but working as a florist was slightly more interruptable than working as a project manager for a budding space engineering company.
Sure enough, when Casey slumped through the door of Clutterbuck’s Flowers, Melody was busy in the back room, putting together an arrangement of roses and gardenias. Casey had worn herself out with frustration on the way over, and even the heady scent of dozens of flowers couldn’t shake her out of the gloom that now pressed down on her.
“Whoa. What bit you in the ass?” Melody asked as Casey leaned against the doorway leading to the back room.
“Scott Martin,” Casey sighed.
Melody beamed as if it were suddenly June. “Really? Do tell,” she said as though begging for juicy details.
Casey crossed her arms and arched a brow at her friend. “Not in that way. He’s an irritating menace, that’s all.”
“Ooh?” Still, Melody looked like there was intimate gossip to be had. “You two go out again?”
“No,” Casey told her definitively. “And we’re not going to either.”
“Why not?” Melody placed a pink rose in the perfect spot within her arrangement. “He’s gorgeous.”
“He’s a louse,” Casey argued.
“Why? What did he do to you?”
“He…he did…Well, he didn’t really do anything to me,” Casey huffed. “Not in the way that you’re thinking. But I’ve tried everything, and I can’t get him to see what a jerk he is for building that stupid house on our land.”
Melody pressed her lips shut. She remained silent as she turned the arrangement around, looking for gaps where she could place more flowers. The censure on her face wasn’t for the arrangement, though. “Have you asked yourself if you’re being fair?”
“Of course I have,” Casey replied. Granted, she still wasn’t sure what the answer to the question was. “I’m fighting for my family, for our heritage,” she said. “Selling land is a slippery slope. Today it might be five acres so some space nerd can build a house, but what happens next time Dad can’t balance the books? Another five acres? Ten? Do you know how many ranches have been obliterated by land sales when they couldn’t compete anymore?”
Melody glanced at her, then gave her arrangement one last turn. She seemed satisfied with it, and turned to lean her hip against the table, crossing her arms. “I deal more with flowers than cattle.”
“Then trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”
“Most of the time, yeah.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Casey could feel her face flush as frustration tightened its grip around her.
“Take a deep breath, Case.” Melody must have seen her temper rising too. She smiled and moved away from the table to stand next to Casey and bump her with her shoulder. “Life’s too short to spend it battling with hot guys.”
“He’s not—”
“Yes he is, and don’t try to tell me he isn’t,” she laughed. “The man is a banana waiting to be peeled.”
Casey burst into reluctant laughter. Melody always did know how to overpower her with sunshine. No wonder flowers seemed to follow her wherever she went. “He is an objectively attractive man,” she conceded.
“And is it just me, or do those glasses make him even sexier?”
“The glasses are definitely an asset,” Casey sighed. “I just wish he weren’t an interloper on our land.”
“Psht, I saw the way you were looking at him at that party,” Melody said. “Until you found out who he was, you would have let him interlope all over the place.”
Casey laughed, cheeks going red. A minute later, she groaned. “The last thing I need is to be attracted to my sworn enemy.”
Melody arched a brow. “Oh, he’s your sworn enemy now?”
“Yes.” Casey balled her hands into fists. “I can’t let him win. Not when so much is at stake.”
Melody chuckled and headed back to the table. “Sister, you need to get back on a horse.”
“What?” Casey frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You obviously need to ride something,” Melody said with a suggestive look. She picked up a rose that hadn’t made its way into the arrangement and pointed it at Casey. “You’ve let your restless energy build up for way too long. Either mount a horse and run some barrels or mount a man and…I’ll let you finish that sentence however you see fit.”
Casey frowned. The problem was, her mind instantly filled in all the images she needed to blush even harder. It was way too easy to see herself riding Scott. Way too easy.
“But hey, if it makes you feel any better,” Melody went on, sparing Casey the embarrassment of coming up with a reply, “I think you and Scott make a great couple.”
“Why would that make me feel better?” Casey’s frown deepened.
Melody shrugged and picked up her arrangement. She carried it past Casey into the main part of the shop, taking it to the window. “I dunno. Maybe if you’re feeling like you need permission to date a guy who you started out at odds with….”
“I’m not interested in dating Scott.” Casey followed her to the front of the shop, leaning against the counter as she reached it. “I’m not really interested in dating anyone right now.”
“So you say, but my eyes tell me otherwise.”
“Then you need to get your eyes checked.”
Melody chuckled. She adjusted the arrangement until it met whatever criteria she had to be satisfied, then she straightened and faced Casey. “My eyes are fine. So is Scott. I’m just putting two and two together.” She winked.
Casey sighed. “Let me deal with one thing at a time.”
“Okay,” Melody answered enthusiastically. “I vote for dealing with hunky men, and then getting back on a horse.”
“Looks like I don’t need to get back on a horse,” Casey shot back. “I’m already going around in circles here. My priority is preserving my ranch. Everything else is a distant second.”
“I don’t know Scott all that well,” Melody went on, ignoring Casey entirely. “He seems like he’d be perfect for you, though. He’s got that immovable, serious presence about him that a lot of those engineers have.”
“Which is all well and good, if you like serious men.”
“And I do,” Melody said with full heat in her voice. Then she laughed. “Well, it’s true. I like a man who makes me work to get him to crack a smile. But for you, you need a man who can keep you grounded.”
“Is that an insult?” Casey arched an eyebrow.
“No, it’s your best friend telling you something you already know
about yourself.” She moved to lean on the opposite end of the counter from Casey. “You’ve had a crappy year since your mom died, and if you ask me, a well-grounded man is just what you need to help you find your center again. And if finding your center just so happens to involve a lot of deep, penetrating, hard work….”
Casey couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the overtness of Melody’s innuendo. “And I’m the one who needs a man?”
Melody laughed. “I never said I didn’t. In fact, there was at least one at that mixer that made my hummingbirds sing.”
“Really?” Casey grinned.
“But you left so fast you didn’t get a chance to witness any of it.”
“Who are we talking about here?”
Melody straightened. “Uh-uh. No way. I’m not spilling any secrets to you until you cool your guns long enough to admit that your interest in Scott Martin goes beyond land and houses.”
“But it doesn’t—”
Melody pushed away from the counter, whistling an old love song, and sashayed into the back room.
“Mel!” Casey called after her. “That’s totally not fair.”
But whether it was fair or not, it did nothing to change the growing suspicion in Casey’s gut that Melody was right. Scott had gotten under her skin for more reasons than she was willing to entertain. The longer she let it go on, the harder it would be to stay focused on what really mattered.
Chapter Five
Scott knocked on the frame of Howie’s open door and entered the office. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Haskell?”
Howie glanced away from his computer screen and made a face at Scott. “Haven’t I told you it’s Howie? Howie Four, if you’re feeling formal.”
Scott laughed and strode farther into the room, slipping his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “Old habits die hard.” Like not dressing up for work. After years of working for the government, he felt massively underdressed in khaki pants and a button-down shirt with a sweater-vest over it.
Of course, Howie was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, a particularly nice cowboy hat sitting on the corner of his desk. “We don’t stand on ceremony in Haskell,” he explained with a broad grin. “We’re all about community here. Always have been, going back to my great-great-great-grandfather. Formality puts distance between people, but good, old fashioned, laid-back attitudes make everyone feel like one big family.”
