Home on the Ranch: Colorado. Julie Benson

any interest in learning that side of the ranch. All that was about to change. Little brother was going to have to step up.

      “I couldn’t get the second mortgage.”

      “Why?”

      “The downturn in the economy has caused a drop in tourism. Pair that with the amount of debt Twin Creeks already carries, and John couldn’t justify it.”

      “You’d think since he was dad’s best friend, he’d cut us a little slack.”

      “John’s a smart businessman, and this was purely a business decision.”

      “Wait a minute. Mom and Avery left for Portland yesterday. How did you pay for their flights?”

      “I put it on a credit card.” One charging a fortune in interest. The hole Rory was digging kept getting deeper. “I need to get additional cash coming in before we start receiving Mom’s medical bills.”

      “Did you tell her?”

      Rory shook his head. “I didn’t tell Avery, either. She isn’t to know anything about this. No one is, for that matter. This stays between you and me. Are you clear on that?”

      “But if—

      “Avery’s got to take care of Mom. That’s her job, keeping her calm and positive. You mention any of this, and I’ll beat you to within an inch of your life. You got that, little brother?”

      Griffin nodded.

      “I’ve got the money situation under control, but I need you to take over the ranch’s day-to-day operations.”

      “I’m obviously missing something. How did you find a way to come up with that kind of cash?”

      “I’m going to New York City to model.”

      Griffin laughed. “No, seriously, Rory. What’re we going to do?”

      “This isn’t a joke. I called the advertising executive who was here last week. She’s got a client I can work for who will pay thirty grand for me to do an advertising campaign. I’m leaving tonight.”

      “What? Are you sure about this? You hate being in the spotlight, and you hate having your picture taken. If anything, you’ve always tried to blend into the background.”

      “What choice do I have? If Mom doesn’t get this treatment, she’ll die.”

      Griffin nodded, and for a moment the weight of their worry hung in the air.

      “You have to hold things together here while I’m in New York.”

      “Tell me what to do.”

      Some of the heaviness pressing on Rory’s chest lifted. He picked up a three-ring binder and gave Griff a crash course on Twin Creeks’ finances.

      “Don’t spend money on anything but the essentials, Griff. I’ve cut expenses to the bone. In doing that I haven’t had to let anyone go.”

      “It’s that bad?”

      “We’re not on the verge of bankruptcy, but things are tight.” Rory handed over a file. “Jameson is interested in buying Star’s foal. Follow up with him next week. He’s been lowballing us. I’ve given him the best price possible. Don’t let him haggle with you. Another copy of the quote I gave him is in his file.”

      “Everything sounds simple enough.”

      “Stick to the budget.” Rory flipped to another section in the binder.

      “Thank goodness for cell phones. You’re only a call away if I have questions,” Griffin murmured.

      “I may have to call you back, since I’ll be working.”

      “How are you going to stand being away from here? You break out in a cold sweat when you have to go to Denver. Being in a big city like New York will drive you crazy.”

      That’s exactly what worried Rory the most.

      * * *

      WHEN RORY WALKED INTO Rayzor Sharp Media’s reception area, the first thing that hit him was how sterile the place felt. The desk was a sleek chrome-and-glass contraption with lines and angles and no warmth. A big black sign with the company name hung above it. The white walls added to the lifeless environment. He suddenly found himself missing the warm wood and earthy colors he saw everywhere at home.

      A pretty little brunette dressed in black, who looked as if she hadn’t eaten a decent meal in a month, glanced up and flashed him a perfect, blinding-white smile. “Hello…” She stretched out the word and looked him up and down, making him feel like a bright red apple held out to a horse. “What can I do for you?”

      Man, he was out of his element. Fingering the brim of his Sunday Stetson, which he held in his hands, he said, “I’m here to see Ms. Harrington-Smyth.”

      “Lucky Elizabeth. Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Bottled water? My phone number?”

      For a moment he didn’t know what to say. Strong women didn’t scare him, but he wanted a woman to at least give him a chance to show interest before she made an all-out play for him, and he wasn’t used to being pounced on the minute he walked into a place of business.

      “I’m good.”

      “You sure are.” The receptionist pointed to a cluster of ridiculously flimsy metal chairs. “Have a seat. I’ll let Elizabeth know you’re here.”

      As he sat, he hoped the chair would hold his weight. He didn’t belong here. Elizabeth’s client would take one look at him, laugh and ask her if she was crazy to put this cowboy in an ad campaign to sell clothes.

      Now if the client was Ford or Chevy, that he could see. Man, he wished she wanted him to sell trucks instead of jeans. That wouldn’t be a bad deal. He could chuck a saddle and some grain sacks in the back of a flatbed, crawl in the cab and drive off into the sunset. Yup, that would be a sweet deal.

      But he hadn’t gotten that lucky.

      A minute later Elizabeth walked into the reception area. She was tinier than he remembered. Heck, she couldn’t be more than five-two, because she barely reached the middle of his chest, even wearing high heels. He grinned. Those spiky shoes sure made her calves look fantastic. How could such a little thing have legs that were longer than an Alaskan night?

      “I’m glad you’re here. I hope your flight was pleasant.” She held out her hand.

      He shook it, surprised at the softness of her skin. “The flight was fine.”

      “Thanks for getting here on such short notice. Today we’re going to take some photos. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow with the client. You and I both work for him. Unfortunately, until we have professional shots he’s unwilling to sign a contract with you or the agency.”

      “I can’t sign the contract and have him cut me a check today?”

      “Mr. Devlin insists on seeing the professional photographs first.”

      Rory nodded, trying to shove aside his nervousness and unease. The sooner he got to work, the sooner he’d get paid. “Then we’d best get started.”

      “Follow me.” Elizabeth started walking. “Let me tell you a couple of things about today’s shoot. We’re doing this one in-house since the photos are to show the client how wonderful you’ll be to showcase his jeans. When he signs the contract, we’ll do the commercial and print shoots elsewhere.”

      She glanced at Rory as if she expected him to say something, so he replied, “Makes sense.”

      “I coordinate the shoot. It’s my job to make sure everyone else is doing his or hers, and that we have everything we need. We’ve got a small set, and once you change, our photographer will take pictures of you there. But the first thing we need to do is get you into our client’s designer jeans.”

      Designer