“Did you find out who it was?” she asked.
I shook my head in response to her question. “Nah, but that’s all right,” I said. “I didn’t expect to.”
I’d visited the Sheriff to file a complaint about damage to my fence, which looked like it had been hit or run over—or maybe both—by someone late the day before. It was part of the fence that ran close to the road, so it hadn’t exactly been a surprise, but I’d also wanted to make sure no one had been hurt in the process.
“And of course you’re going to go out there as soon as you’re done eating and fix the fence with that sun beating down on you,” Mom commented, carrying the grocery bags into the house while I hefted the hardware supplies and her fabric.
“The fence is there for a reason,” I pointed out. “I might as well fix it as quickly as I can.”
“We live so far out and with so few neighbors that it could wait a few days,” Mom countered.
“And then animals will come in and get at the wheat or the sorghum,” I said. “Nah, it’s better to just go ahead and get the project done today.”
“On top of everything else,” Mom said. “You work too hard, Rhett.”
“It’s my farm,” I said with a shrug. “You used to tell Dad the same thing, and he taught me—you’d think you’d give up after a certain point.”
“The mail came in, there’s a stack for you on the counter,” Mom said, changing the subject from my father; I didn’t blame her. The anniversary of his death was coming up—it was almost a week away—and while I couldn’t get my old man out of my mind, I didn’t really want to talk much about him if I didn’t have to. Fortunately, the whole town knew the anniversary was coming up too—I wasn’t likely to have to talk about him to anyone.
“Ah, thanks,” I said, putting her fabric down next to the chair she preferred in the front room and putting my hardware down next to the door where I could grab it on my way out. I went to the counter that separated the main room from the kitchen and shuffled through the mail. “Aw, half of it’s from Marshall,” I told mom, calling out just loud enough for her to hear me. “You can toss it.”
“You know, you probably shouldn’t be leaving all those letters unopened,” Mom called back, and I heard the noises of her putting stuff away in the kitchen.
“It’s my mail to open or not as I wish,” I said.
“Still! You don’t want to miss some kind of important news,” Mom told me, and I could hear her voice going firmer, even if I couldn’t see her face. There was no point in arguing with her about it.
“I’ll open it one of these days,” I said. “For now, I’m more worried about bills.”
I opened up the other pieces of mail, but it was all pretty uneventful: I’ve always been careful about my money, so bills didn’t much surprise me, and the sales circulars were mostly the same stuff they always were.
“Damn! I just realized I forgot to ask you to get me cornstarch,” Mom said, coming out of the kitchen and into the main room. “I hate to make you go back into town, Rhett…”
“How urgently do you need it?”
Mom made a face. “If I don’t have it then dinner tonight is going to be pretty terrible,” she said.
I chuckled, but I knew she was serious.
“I’ll go get it for you then,” I told her. I kissed my mother on the forehead and she hugged me tight, and then I turned around and walked out of the house, headed back to my truck.
Mom followed me as far as the porch. “Can you pick me up some nice, fresh cream, too? And see if the grocery has strawberries—I want to make you a treat for when you finally finish up for the day.”
I grinned at my mother and nodded, accepting the additional orders. “I’ll be back in about thirty minutes.”
Town wasn’t too far away, but it was far enough that we didn’t usually make it out that way more than once a twice a week—at least not for any real length of time. Most of Mustang Ridge’s residents lived out in the farms, like us; even the people who had shops in town generally lived with their families out in the sticks. I saw plenty of town people, just not in town.
I climbed back up into my truck and turned around in the driveway. The fence could at least wait until it wasn’t quite so hot out.
Chapter Three
Emily
“And you see, Em—that’s how it’s done,” Dad said as we walked out of the town planning and administration offices. I tried not to cringe, because I knew that ultimately, he was right—we had, after all, gotten the town plans we needed, along with some maps and things—but the way he’d gone about it had been almost humiliating for me to watch.
Jacob had been nodding the whole time, approving of everything my dad did, which I guessed made sense, given that Jacob was just an employee. But watching my Dad threaten some twenty-something college grad who’d been the gatekeeper for the higher-up we needed to see had made me almost wish I hadn’t come. And then, once we’d gotten into the office itself, I’d had to sit through watching his whole act.
I knew that he got results—he wouldn’t be successful if the things he did just didn’t work—but I couldn’t help feeling like it would have been a lot easier to get what we wanted from the town managers if he’d at least started out polite and friendly. He had, in a way—he’d done the whole act of shaking hands and smiling—but almost immediately he told the town manager that if he backed out of the agreement to give him access to certain parts of the town for the sake of development, he’d bring the man to court.
“I see what you did, Dad,” I said, more to keep things moving forward than anything else.
“Now that we’ve got the plans and some maps, I want to scout out some locations,” Dad continued as we walked towards his SUV.
“Do you want to see if we can convince someone to give us the local’s eye view, Martin?” Jacob asked.
I glanced at him. How had he not been embarrassed by what Dad had done in the office? Put it out of your mind. Dad got what he wanted and surely people in offices like that expect the hard sell.
“If we can find someone willing to do it,” Dad said with a shrug. “But mostly I want to get our eyes on the things we need to see, and start figuring out how much money to offer people for selling.”
I nodded. “Why don’t we start out getting a look around the town center, and kind of get a feel for things, maybe see if there’s somewhere we can stop off and grab a snack. Then we can figure out where we need to check first,” I suggested, looking around. It was nearly the hottest part of the day, and the idea of tromping around near fields and farms was not exactly appealing, even if I’d specifically tried to choose clothes that were light and comfortable.
“Let’s see if there’s a cafe or something, maybe a diner,” Jacob suggested. “We could grab a bite to eat and go over the plans.”
I’d noticed a diner as we came into the center of town and we started off in that direction. I was looking around, trying to remember where it was in relation to the other things I’d seen on the way in—not that there was all that much to see—and I spotted the guy I’d run into about an hour earlier. He was coming out of a grocery store, and I smiled at him.
“Hey!” I stepped closer to him, taking in—in more detail—the fact that he was actually pretty damn good-looking. “I wanted to say again I’m sorry for plowing into you like that earlier.”
“Don’t sweat it,” he said, smiling back at me and shaking his head. “Hell, I’ve been plowed into plenty of times by people way less pretty.”
I felt myself blushing but I managed to keep from going into the usual coy, eyes downcast, shy girl routine that I’d seen so many women fall into when a handsome man complimented them.
“Hey, Em, didn’t you say you wanted something to drink? Diner’s right over there,” Jacob said, stepping a little closer to me than I liked.
“I’m okay,” I said quickly. “It’s just hot as blazes today.”
“I gotta say I was not too disappointed that I
had to come back into town to grab a few things,” the handsome man from before told me. “I was not looking forward to working on my fence in all this sun.”
“Oh! Wow, you must be a farmer then,” I said, looking at him with more respect.
“Yep! I’ve worked my dad’s farm since I was a kid,” he told me. “Honest day’s work, every day of the week.”
I grinned. I couldn’t help myself. “There is something wholesome about working the land,” I agreed.
“I haven’t seen you around these parts before today,” he said.
“You’d definitely remember if you had,” Jacob pointed out.
“Oh, for sure,” the man agreed. “Obviously you’re not from these parts. What brings you to Mustang Ridge?”
I glanced at Jacob, and at my dad who had come to a stop a few feet away from me. “Oh, just looking around for now,” I said. “We’re thinking of doing some building.”
“You’re thinking of moving to town?”
That was fairly close to what we were going to do—not exactly the truth, but I wasn’t about to show our hand to someone I didn’t even know.
“Yeah, basically,” I replied.
The man held out his hand. “Let me be the first person to welcome you here, then. Name’s Rhett—I can’t believe we had a head-on and didn’t even exchange names earlier.”
I was smiling so much I was almost worried I’d split my face in half. “Emily,” I said, shaking his hand.
“Great handshake, Emily,” Rhett said. “Where are you from originally?”
“Houston,” I said.
“Big change for you, coming here,” Rhett said. “But I hope you decide to stay, so I can maybe run into you again.”
“I’m pretty sure I will,” I told him. “I’ll be back in town a few times this week, looking around.”
“If you ever want a tour of the town, I’d be happy to show you around,” Rhett said.
I finally remembered that I still had my hand in his, and took it back.
“I’d love that,” I said, smiling all over again.
“Let me give you my number,” Rhett said.
I nodded and fumbled for a second in my purse. I blushed, remembering that that kind of thing was exactly how I’d ended up initially “meeting” Rhett. As soon as I got my phone out and my address book open, Rhett gave me his number, and I saved it.
“I’ll give you a call,” I told him. Rhett hefted the bags in his hands and glanced over at the parking along the street in the town center.
“I’d love to chat, but some of this stuff will spoil if I don’t get it home,” he said, and it sounded like he really did want to stick around.
“Yeah, we should probably get moving too,” I agreed.
Rhett smiled at me again and then turned away.
I checked again to make sure his number was saved in my phone.
“You might not have the full toolbox yet, but you do have some skills,” Dad said, calling my attention back to the present.
“You always have said I’m good with people,” I told him.
“You always have been,” he pointed out.
“That doesn’t sound as much like a compliment as it usually does,” I observed.
Dad grinned and shrugged. “I just hope you’re not going to get distracted charming the yokels,” he said. “That’s not why we’re here and you know it.”
“But charming them is a good way to get things done,” I countered.
“You’ve just got to be willing to apply the pressure later,” Dad said. “Now I think of it, I like your idea of getting a local to show you around—and since you just happened to meet one, I think you should take him up on that offer ASAP.”
“ASAP?” I raised an eyebrow.
“As long as you can stay focused, it’d be a good idea to get someone who lives and farms here to show you the spots we need to scout out,” Dad said. “Give him a call and see if he’ll take you around tomorrow.”
“I’ll call him when we head back,” I suggested.
“No—give him a call now. That way you can get it done and we can talk over where you’re going to look tomorrow,” Dad said, with the kind of firmness in his voice—friendly as it still was—that I knew I wasn’t going to be able to argue him out of the idea of calling Rhett right away.
“Okay, I’ll call him. Why don’t you and Jake go into the diner and get some drinks? I don’t need you breathing down my neck,” I said.
I could tell Jacob wanted to come up with an excuse to stay behind, but I hadn’t given him one, so when Dad told him to come into the diner with him, Jacob went.
I took a deep breath, trying not to feel embarrassed at the fact that I was about to call a guy whose number I’d only gotten a couple of minutes before. Get over it, Em. I had to admit, it was nice to have an excuse to talk to Rhett again soon—much less see him again the next day, if he was free.
I dialed the number and Rhett answered after two rings. “Rhett speaking, who’s this?”
“Hey Rhett,” I said, looking around me, feeling like the handful of townspeople wandering the central part of the town were all staring, even though I couldn’t catch anyone doing it. “It’s Emily. I just realized I’m actually going to be here tomorrow, and I was wondering if you were going to be busy—I’d like to take you up on that tour of the town, if you’re not.” I closed my eyes and cringed, feeling like the biggest fool in the world.
“Absolutely! If you’d wanted the tour today I’d even put off working on the fence for you,” Rhett said, and I smiled, some of my awkward feeling beginning to dissipate.
“No—I couldn’t take you away from your work,” I told him. “But tomorrow would be great, if you’re sure you’ll be free.”
“I can make myself free,” he said. “Why don’t we grab some lunch at the diner tomorrow, and then I’ll take you on the grand tour?”
“That would be perfect,” I said.
“Just make sure you ditch that suit—it’s not going to hold up in the heat around here, much less all the dust and dirt,” Rhett told me.
“Oh, I had no intention of dressing for the office out here,” I agreed.
“Good call,” Rhett said. “Dress like you’re from around here.”
“Thanks for the advice,” I said. It was something that should have been obvious—but I was glad for it anyway. “I’ll meet you at the diner tomorrow at...let’s say quarter to twelve?”
“I’ll be there,” Rhett said. I couldn’t think of anything else to say to him, though I wanted to—so I ended the call with another thank-you for his kindness, and then got off. I would never in a million years have guessed that I’d end up getting a tour of the town from someone I’d just literally run into—but I thought that at least if I was going to be working, I’d get to enjoy myself.
Chapter Four
Rhett
I was surprised at how well Emily took my advice when I got to the diner to meet her the next day, just before lunch. Instead of wearing it in a bun, she’d pulled her blond hair back into a braid tucked it behind her head. And instead of a pantsuit, she was in a pair of jeans and a light, button-down shirt. If I hadn’t known better I almost would have thought she was from Mustang Ridge—I was pretty sure she wasn’t even wearing makeup.
“You look like a farm girl,” I said as I sat down at the booth with her.
She grinned at me, and her green eyes sparkled. “That’s what I was going for,” she said. “This is the stuff I normally wear to go hiking.”
“Not a bad choice,” I ducked my head under the table a bit and saw she was, in fact, wearing hiking boots. It was a good look all around, practical, and she wasn’t likely to get bitten by a snake if we went out in the sticks to look at stuff around the farm. Safe, comfortable, and easy to clean.
“What’s good here?” She looked at the menu and I thought about the question for a minute or two.
“Really the best thing here is the pie,” I replied. “But you’d probably want
some actual food in your stomach first.”
“I’m not lunch-hungry yet,” she said.
“Well, then, the cherry pie is pretty great, but the best pie they make here is the lemon-meringue.”
“That’s exactly what I’ll have then,” she said, setting the menu down. I looked around the diner, noticing that a few people were taking note of me in the place with a stranger. Someone was bound to comment, but I figured it wasn’t that big of a deal.
Lucy, who’d been a waitress at Bill’s Diner since I was a teenager, came up to our table. “Look at you, Rhett—finally taking a girl out to eat,” she said.
Emily grinned.
I shook my head. “It’s not a date,” I said. “She’s looking to move to Mustang Ridge, so I offered to show her around town.”
“Well, whatever reason you have to be out with a girl on a nice day like this, I’m glad to see it,” Lucy said. “What’ll you two be having?”
“I’d like the lemon-meringue pie and a cup of coffee,” Emily said.
“I’ll get the same,” I added.
“Not a great lunch, but it’s not my place to judge,” Lucy said, scribbling down a quick note on her pad. Just as she turned to go put our order in, someone else was moving past us to leave the diner—Joe Hansen.
“Hey, Rhett,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt your date.”
“It isn’t a date,” I told Joe. He shrugged that information off.
“I just haven’t seen you since you helped with that fundraiser Madeline had,” Joe said. “Wanted to thank you.”
“It was nothing,” I said, shaking my head.
“You drove her over to the South County Mall and stood with her the whole day—that’s not nothing,” Joe insisted.
“I was free that day,” I told him with a smile. “It really wasn’t anything.”
“I won’t wreck your date arguing with you about it,” Joe said, nodding to me and then to Emily. I started to tell him that it wasn’t a date—again—but he turned away and headed for the door before I had the chance.
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