Winning Over The Cowboy. Shannon Vannatter Taylor

week.

      “I remember.” Wistfulness filled her tone. She cleared her throat. “Do you ever talk to Paxton?”

      Why was that any of her concern?

      “I mean—I know it’s none of my business.” She lifted one shoulder. “But I’m just curious why he’s not interested in Eden’s inheritance.”

      “He moved back to Lubbock, where his family is.” His sigh came up from the toes of his boots. “We try to keep in touch. But it’s stiff. It’s like talking to each other brings back Eden’s death. Mom and Dad, too. We love Paxton, but it’s hard. For all of us.” An understatement.

      And why was he telling her this, anyway?

      Because it weighed heavy on him. “It’s like the piece of the puzzle that connected our lives is missing.”

      “Have you talked to him about this decision? I mean—if you don’t mind me asking?”

      “Paxton doesn’t feel like he has any claim to the ranch. That it should return to Eden’s family. He thought by opting out, it would revert to me. Or Mom and Dad.”

      “Oh. And then my name popped up.” Her tone sounded apologetic.

      If she was a scammer, would she be concerned about Paxton? Or maybe her compassion was part of her act.

      “Well, I guess I’m it, then.” She blew out a big breath. “The first thing we need to do is get this place running smoothly. What about staff? Are the Fletchers still here?”

      It was already running smoothly. “Yes. They helped me manage the place during the legal stuff.” Until Paxton had come to a decision to forfeit his share and unintentionally saddled Chase with Landry.

      “We need to look at the books, the schedule, and figure out what needs to be done. Do you know anything about running a dude ranch?”

      “I know my way around.” The nerve of her. Maybe she was so uptight because she was roasting in that pin-striped business suit. “I grew up here.” Where were you? Out scamming? “I’ve worked here the last three years. I’ve overseen operations since Eden’s...wedding.”

      Color drained from her face, effectively brightening her strawberry blond waves. “So, you...you were here last fall?”

      He knew what she was referring to. Eden had gone to be in Landry’s wedding, but for some reason the nuptials hadn’t happened. His sister had returned early with Landry in tow and invited her to stay—for free—after the busted romance.

      “I was.” For almost two weeks, she’d stayed holed up in her room, only coming out for Eden’s wedding, then leaving immediately afterward.

      Her cheeks flushed. She knew that he knew. Her dark chocolate gaze darted away.

      “I worked here for a year and a half when Granny was still alive, while I attended culinary school.” She headed back to the office. “Then as a chef at a dude ranch in Aubrey since then. So I can handle the scheduling and cleaning and help with cooking duties if needed. Let’s check the schedule.”

      “I know the schedule.” He tailed her. Who did she think she was? Some interloper trying to take over? Not on his watch. This whole thing was surreal. “Nu nu, nu nu, nu nu, nu nu.”

      “The Twilight Zone theme?” She turned to face him. One eyebrow quirked.

      “I kind of feel like I passed through the portal.”

      She snorted. “I love that show.” She turned pink, seemingly from embarrassment, then schooled her features back into all business. “Do we have guests booked?”

      “We’re at the halfway mark of summer break. With school starting up in five weeks, we’re about to be inundated with families grabbing their last opportunity at fleeing their ordinary existence.”

      He’d spend the rest of the day going over the schedule with her, introducing her to staff, familiarizing her with the workings of the dude ranch, the kitchen, especially the cleaning closet. Then he’d hit her with memorizing their rates and accommodations. Maybe she’d run screaming from the place.

      But he doubted it. Something told him it wouldn’t be easy to get rid of Landry Malone. Yet he’d find a way. And the fact that she appreciated his favorite vintage television show wouldn’t sway him.

      * * *

      Chase had followed Landry around for the rest of the day, stiff and unfriendly. Nothing like Eden. Nothing like their parents. Nothing like Granny. Would his parents be glad to see her?

      Or would they resent her, too? She held her breath as Chase opened the kitchen door for her.

      His parents’ sported disposable bouffant food prep caps, their heads bent over the counter.

      Janice looked up from kneading dough, her apron dusted with flour. “Landry.” She wiped her hands on her apron, scurried over and greeted her with a hug. “How nice to have you here.”

      Elliot’s smile awakened the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. “It’ll be a relief to have another chef to share kitchen duty with.”

      “Oh, dear.” Janice patted at the flour her hug had deposited on Landry’s lapel and only made it worse.

      “It’s okay. It’s washable.” For the first time since her arrival, she felt welcome. “I’m so glad to see y’all.” Her vision blurred with the sudden longing to cry with relief.

      “It’s almost nine o’clock.” Janice went back to her dough. “When did you get here?”

      “About five.” Chase answered for her. “Y’all were gone to evening Bible study by the time we finished with William.”

      Landry stifled a yawn. “Chase has been showing me around, getting me familiar with operations.”

      “You must be exhausted.” Janice frowned. “Get her settled in, son.”

      “But shouldn’t we go over the kitchen schedule?” Chase settled on a stool at the breakfast bar, his long legs still reaching the floor.

      “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

      “Yes, ma’am.” Chase stood.

      “Sleep in tomorrow.” Elliot gave her a wink.

      “Don’t mind Chase.” Janice turned the dough. “He never runs out of steam.”

      “Have a good night.” At least his parents were on her side.

      Chase ushered Landry out, handed her a key. “I had Ron put your things in Granny’s room. You know where it is.” He headed for the front door, exited.

      Leaving her standing there, uncertain, clearly unwanted. Did he treat all guests like this? Probably just her. Because she didn’t belong.

      Becca and Ron descended the stairs, laughing together. The Fletchers hadn’t changed. Becca with her long brown hair, painfully thin frame and kind blue eyes. Ron was still thick and stocky—the same height as his wife, ruddy complexion and thunderous voice.

      “Landry!” he boomed.

      “Oh, I’m so glad you’re back.” Becca clasped both her hands.

      “Thanks.”

      “We were just leaving. But since you’re here—”

      “Y’all go. I was headed to my quarters myself. We’ll catch up tomorrow.”

      “See you then.” Becca gave her a quick hug, then linked fingers with her husband and exited.

      Two more allies. With Chase’s chill toward her and quiet wariness from the rest of the employees—food preps, waitstaff, cleaning personnel, ranch hands—she felt like a definite outsider. They probably saw her as an intruder just like Chase did. Possibly worried about their jobs with so much change.