The Cowboy's Promise

by Macie St James

  “He’s coming,” she whispered. “Pretend we were talking about something else.”

  Clay turned and looked at her. She was seriously panicking about this. Whatever this job was paying her, it wasn’t enough. This guy had some sort of strange hold on her.

  “There you are!”

  The words cut in before Clay could make fake conversation as Harley’s boss approached. They came from the other direction. Reilly and Colton, together, were walking toward them.

  “Your brothers,” Harley said with a big, forced smile. She looked at her boss. “These are Clay’s brothers, Reilly and Colton. They live on the ranch, too, in the separate houses.”

  “This is Harley’s boss,” Clay told his brothers as they stopped next to him.

  He wished he could have a few minutes to brief them on what was going on and remind them they wanted to keep the ranch. They already knew his thoughts on the issue, but he was still worried Mr. Cutler would work his magic on them.

  Assuming, that was, he actually had magic. That remained to be seen.

  “Wow,” Colton said as they were doing the whole handshake thing. “Don’t you live in Seattle?”

  “Yes. Had to check in on my employee. Make sure all was going well. I also wanted to see your amazing property for myself. I’m glad I did. Now that I’ve seen it, I think my offer may not be substantial enough. We need to sit down and go over some numbers.”

  “Cedar Tree Ranch is not for sale.” Clay bundled his coat tighter and crossed his arms over his chest. “If we were open to it, Harley would have talked us into it. She worked her magic, but no amount of magic will do it. It’s non-negotiable.”

  “That land is where we grew up,” Colton said. “It will take far more than a stack of bills to give it up.”

  Reilly laughed. “Besides, it’s not like our parents would ever go for it.”

  Harley looked at Mr. Cutler, her stance definitely one of a peacemaker. “The Briscoe brothers were left to manage the ranch after their parents retired. The only stipulation is that it remains a working ranch. I told you all this.”

  “That’s the thing, though,” Harley’s boss said. “We can keep it a working ranch. We just subdivide—”

  Clay didn’t let him finish. “Already been down that road. Harley did a great job, but it’s not going to happen.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” Mr. Cutler started.

  Uh-oh. Clay knew all too well what happened when a salesperson pulled ‘I’ll tell you what’ out. He tried to keep his sigh quiet enough that Mr. Cutler wouldn’t hear.

  If Mr. Cutler noticed the sigh, he didn’t let it deter him. “Why don’t we all head back to the house and we’ll pull all the documents out? If, at the end of our meeting, you don’t want to do a deal, I’ll climb back in my car and drive back to Seattle.”

  “No, thank you,” Clay said. “I’m going to enjoy this festival and some time with my brothers. You can go back to the house if you’d like, but I’m going to be a while. I’d love for Harley to stay here with me. You’re welcome to stay, too, but you’re going to have to actually taste some of the food.”

  Silence. Everyone in the small group gathered around Clay seemed to be speechless all of a sudden. Had what he’d said been all that shocking?

  He had to hand it to Mr. Cutler. He knew when to take a step back. Clay had met a few salesy types in his time, and he’d definitely seen some push way too far. A skilled salesperson knew to give the customer room to make a decision.

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” Mr. Cutler said. “What’s good?”

  Mr. Cutler took a step back, walking alongside Harley and letting Clay and his brothers lead the way. Boss and employee huddled behind them, speaking low enough so that only they could hear. Fine by him. Maybe they’d come to the conclusion that this was a bust and just enjoy some tasty bites.

  “Dude’s really going hard on the sales pitch,” Reilly commented as they rounded the corner and headed toward the burger booth he and Colton had been eyeing, apparently.

  Clay cast a quick look behind them before speaking. “He thinks he can do what Harley couldn’t.”

  “Has he looked at Harley?” Colton asked. “Does he really think she couldn’t talk you into doing something better than he could?”

  “I’m not selling the ranch.” Maybe if he said it enough, it would get through to his brothers.

  “We’re not selling,” Colton corrected.

  Oof. Good point. Clay tried to make sure he always emphasized the fact that this was a joint venture, but for the past twenty-four hours, it had been him versus Harley. He’d been taking the full hit for the family. For that reason, it was a little easier to put himself as the sole decision-maker.

  “Great,” Clay said. “Then you guys tell her it’s not going to happen. I’m getting a little tired of rejecting her over and over.”

  “That’s the thing,” Colton said. “We’ve been talking…”

  Reilly leaned forward to talk around Clay, who was inconveniently stationed between them. “I thought we were going to do this later.”

  “We have to do it before Harley and her boss leave town,” Colton said. “We’re running out of time.”

  “Wait.” Clay stopped. They were in front of the burger stand anyway, so it was the only option. But it made him all too aware that this would close the distance between the three of them and the two salespeople who were trailing them. “You two have been discussing this without me? Is Jared in on it, too?”

  “Of course not,” Reilly said. “He’s overseas.”

  “This probably isn’t a good time,” Colton said. “Maybe we should go somewhere private.”

  Reilly shrugged. “I’m having some sliders. You two can discuss. Colton knows my views on things.”

  “Is everything okay?” Harley asked as Reilly headed into the booth.

  “Apparently not,” Clay said.

  Colton glanced over at Reilly’s departing form. “Yes. Just fine. We have a few things we need to discuss, but you guys go ahead and get some sliders.”

  Mr. Cutler and Harley exchanged a look. Whatever the look meant, Mr. Cutler seemed to understand he should go to Reilly and leave the three of them out here.

  “What’s going on?” Harley asked. “Is this about my boss?”

  The last thing they needed was a sales pitch in the mix. He and his brother needed to hash this out without pressure from an outside source.

  “We just need to talk a minute.” The words came out much more harshly than Clay had intended. His irritation with his brother was coming through. Until he got this out, he couldn’t have a civil conversation with Harley.

  Harley’s smile was tight. “I see. I’ll just go…in…there.”

  She said that last sentence awkwardly. It would have been laughable if he’d been in any mood at all to laugh. He wasn’t.

  “Look,” Colton said once they verified Harley had sidled up alongside her boss. “I don’t want to argue this. Look at the books. Something has to give.”

  “Selling is not the answer,” Clay said.

  “Maybe not, but Reilly and I agree we all need a plan. Waiting for things to pick up doesn’t count.”

  Yeah, he’d give his brothers that. He’d been using that excuse for the better part of a year now, and even he didn’t believe in it anymore. But there weren’t exactly conferences around here on how to make money on a ranch. The more he studied, the less qualified he felt to really monetize this venture.

  Colton took a deep breath and plunged in. “We all know things have changed. Failing to keep up means being left behind. We’re being left behind. Our ranch operations aren’t as sustainable as they need to be to compete even locally. We all know that. But worse, we don’t have the money to pour into fixing the problem.”

  “Thanks,” Clay said dryly. “You’ve given me a bunch of problems without a single solution.”

  “You have a solution right there.” Colton pointed at Harley and her boss, who both were ho
lding sliders on cocktail napkins while waiting for Reilly to finish flirting with the woman behind the table.

  “Not a solution.”

  “There’s a solution there,” Colton said. “We just need to figure it what it is. Before it’s too late.”

  15

  Mr. Cutler did not fit here. But Harley had no idea how she could get him to leave.

  She’d been trying to shake something weird that had happened at the festival, though. It was while her boss had been ordering his sliders and talking to the overly cheerful woman who had been working there. Reilly had leaned over and said she shouldn’t give up on Clay. No matter what.

  That had left Harley puzzling over what he’d meant. Was this about the business deal? If so, she was shocked to find herself feeling a sharp pang of disappointment. She knew she should care about the business deal, but at this point, she didn’t.

  What she found herself really, really longing to hear was that she shouldn’t give up on his brother falling in love with her. That Clay was a tough nut to crack, but he had a soft spot for Harley. That maybe, just maybe, Reilly and his brother had noticed the way Clay looked at her and, no, it wasn’t her imagination. His gaze did soften a little every time it landed on her face.

  “Here’s the deal I’m offering,” Mr. Cutler was saying as he sat in Clay’s kitchen.

  The farmhouse decor and rustic-looking wood table seemed a mismatch for her boss, who only dined at restaurants with dim lighting and white tablecloths on every table.

  She’d give Clay credit. He did seem to closely scrutinize the document Mr. Cutler had set in front of him. If she didn’t know him better, she’d think he was actually considering it.

  “I made a promise to my parents.” Clay set the document down.

  Here it was. The point where Clay would repeat, for what must have been the four thousandth time, that he was not going to sell the ranch. If she could give him a few words of advice right now, it would be to speak with emphasis. Make it clear to Mr. Cutler that under no circumstances would he sell, and the man should just climb in his citified car and head back to Seattle where he belonged.

  “We can help you keep that promise.” Mr. Cutler glanced over at Harley. “I assume my colleague didn’t explain that to you.”

  “She explained everything just fine,” Clay said. “You can keep this a working ranch and just plop a subdivision around us. So we’d be crowded into one little corner here.”

  Clay pointed to a section of the map. That was where the homes and stables were. There was a huge swath of land that was just that—land. If they somehow isolated the homes, they could get the best of both worlds.

  But how would that work?

  Mr. Cutler gave them a sympathetic look that Harley knew wasn’t genuine. “We’d ensure there was fencing. Your livestock could still roam freely on all this land. Plus, you’d have privacy. Besides, any developer these days is going to clearly delineate the boundaries of a subdivision, whether through landscaping or an actual gate. You’d have nothing to worry about.”

  Harley looked at Clay, waiting for his protest. He’d have plenty to worry about, and she knew it. It wouldn’t be the same at all once a developer took over. There would be a big paved road and traffic along the border of his property all day and night. There would be streetlights and little yippy dogs barking throughout the day… Everything would change, and Clay and his brothers fully realized it.

  Yet Clay wasn’t saying any of that. He was still looking over the paperwork like it actually was worth considering. What was going on here?

  Was he about to buy into this plan when it benefited her not one bit? She’d still lose her job, no doubt, and Kurt Cutler would get yet another victory to add to his brag list. He could have agreed to this before Mr. Cutler arrived and maybe saved her job, but he was going to agree now?

  There was no fighting the anger that was rising inside her. So she let it out.

  “I have a question,” she snapped. “You sent me here, saying this property was available, when you knew full well it wasn’t, didn’t you?”

  Mr. Cutler didn’t answer. She continued.

  “The property never switched hands, never went up for sale.” She heard anger coming through in her voice despite her best efforts to keep her emotions in check. “It’s still in their parents’ name. So why send me here?”

  “I don’t owe you an explanation,” her boss said after a long silence during which she thought about storming out. “I’ll run my business the way I see appropriate.”

  She scoffed. “Oh, so now it’s a business. Before, you pretended you weren’t a business owner with all the pitfalls that come with it. You set me up for failure, plain and simple. Let me guess. You can’t afford to commit to a salary and benefits for me, so you made sure you had a good reason to fire me.”

  The brothers were silent, all staring at Mr. Cutler, waiting for his answer. For the first time in the months she’d known him, he actually didn’t have that arrogant, smirky expression on his face. His confidence appeared to have been shattered just a little.

  “I think I know,” she continued, almost enjoying the cathartic release of her words. “You get a thrill out of intimidating people. It makes you feel bigger, doesn’t it?”

  That was across the line, at least as far as her boss was concerned.

  The hard set of his jaw spoke to how deeply she’d wounded his delicate pride. “This is not the time or place to discuss this, Harley. You can pick up your final paycheck on Monday. That’s all I have to say to you.”

  If she stood here a second longer, she’d let it out. She’d be yelling and Mr. Cutler would lose any respect he’d ever had for her. Most importantly, though, Clay would see how much he’d hurt her and have the pride of knowing he’d gotten out of anything resembling a relationship with her, free and clear.

  “Let’s get back to business,” Mr. Cutler said, as though Harley had been nothing more than an annoying distraction.

  So that was it? They were all just going to go back to discussing this deal? She knew one thing. No way was she sticking around to listen. She crept out of the kitchen and grabbed her belongings from the bedroom. She had everything packed in a matter of seconds, not bothering to make the bed, and was ready to get out of there.

  The problem was, there was only one way out—through the kitchen. She could only hope the Briscoes would be so caught up in Mr. Cutler’s proposal, they wouldn’t even notice her walking out the door.

  “Harley?”

  She’d barely entered the kitchen when Clay’s voice stopped her dead in her tracks. She turned, pretty sure the expression on her face was the same one she’d had when she’d been busted sneaking cookies from the jar as a kid.

  “Yes?” She tried to keep her voice level, casual. Like there was nothing weird about the fact that she was creeping through the kitchen with her overnight bag.

  Clay studied her closely without leaving his seat. “Where are you going?”

  “Home,” she said. “My work here is done. I don’t need to stay around to hear the final verdict.”

  But she couldn’t leave it at that. If she walked out without saying something, she’d regret it later. She decided this was her moment, and nobody could take it from her.

  Setting her bag down, she walked toward the table. At this point, she couldn’t figure out how she had ever put up with this. Sure, she depended on the paycheck, but she’d survived before this job and she’d find a way to survive after it. Even if it meant working two shifts a day as a server until she found something else, it would be better than being treated this way.

  “You’ve threatened me with firing since the day you hired me,” she said. “Not once have you even said ‘thank you’ or given me a word of praise for any of the work I’ve done. I came out here and worked my butt off to convince these wonderful people to give up the only home they’ve ever known so you could afford to replace your Beamer with the latest model. For what? For you to go home and gloa
t that you landed this deal and I had nothing to do with it? Great. But I’m not going to stick around to watch this train wreck.”

  Everyone in the room was staring at her now. Reilly had been over in the kitchen, making himself a big bowl of popcorn. The pops had slowed to the point where the food was definitely done, but he just stood there, frozen. Clay and Colton were seated at the table, but they now stared up at her, completely unmoving.

  And then there was her boss. She’d never seen Mr. Cutler speechless, but that was the only word that could describe him now. Speechless. Typically, his face would start to turn red and his eyes would get all bulgy and he’d flip out after letting the other person get everything out. But he didn’t even look like he was on the verge of that.

  That was good news. It meant she had time to get out of here before he responded. And that was exactly what she intended to do.

  “It’s been nice to meet all of you,” she said, looking at Colton and Reilly in turn. Then her gaze landed on Clay. “And thank you, Mr. Briscoe, for your hospitality. I will not forget my time here. I apologize for any inconvenience I caused.”

  Those were the perfect exit words, she decided. Before anyone could say anything, she grabbed her bag and headed for the front door.

  She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to enjoy her final night with Clay. Yes, she’d have to leave in the morning, but she hadn’t been prepared to walk away just yet. But maybe this was for the best. Like ripping off a bandage. Or jumping in a frigid pool rather than easing in.

  What she hadn’t thought about until she was on the front porch was where she was going. She could drive all the way home. She’d be on the road late, but she could sleep in her own bed and save herself the cost of a hotel room. Now that she was jobless, she supposed she needed to keep her expenses as low as possible.

  “Harley.”

  She was halfway to her car when she heard a male voice behind her. But it wasn’t Clay, coming to beg her not to leave and tell her he was in love with her and couldn’t live without her or whatever. That was what she would have hoped.