Rescuing the Texan's Heart. Mindy Obenhaus

      “That’s what I’m here for.” Stepping aside, he motioned her into his office. “Have a seat.”

      She eased into the burgundy wing-back chair while he closed the door and settled into the squeaky leather swivel chair behind his desk.

      He leaned back, resting his folded hands atop his ample belly. “So, what are we looking at?”

      “I don’t know if you’ve heard or not, but Buck Ramsey is selling All Geared Up. I’d like to buy it.”

      The older man’s brow lifted. “No. I hadn’t heard that.”

      “He just told me yesterday morning, so maybe it isn’t common knowledge.”

      “Well, don’t you worry. What’s discussed in this office stays in this office.”

      Since she hadn’t even talked to her parents yet, that was a relief. “I appreciate that.”

      “So, do you know how much Buck is asking?”

      “I do.” She gave him the six-figure number. Though she hadn’t asked Mr. Ramsey outright, she’d seen a flyer he’d printed.

      “Do you have any collateral?”

      “My Jeep. It’s paid for. And I have about seven thousand in savings.”

      “I see.” His chair creaked as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the glass-topped desk. “And how about a business plan?”

      Anxiety took hold of her once again. “What’s that?”

      “All loan programs require a sound business plan to be submitted with the loan application. The plan should include a complete set of projected financial statements, including profit and loss, cash flow and a balance sheet.”

      “Oh.” Her stomach churned. She tried not to look as clueless as she felt. Surely she could find something on the internet that would tell her how to put together a successful business plan.

      “Do you have any management or business experience, Taryn?”

      “Well, I—” Sell yourself, girl. “I work with people every day, Cam. I lead groups on climbing ventures, conduct workshops, and I’ve been at All Geared Up for over three years. I know that business inside and out.”

      He steepled his fingers, tapped them together, but didn’t say a word.

      This wasn’t looking good.

      Finally, he whirled his chair around to the credenza along the wall, opened the drawer and pulled out a large white envelope. Turning, he slid it across the desk. “The loan application is here, along with a checklist of everything we’ll need from you before we can process things.”

      Her fingers shook as she reached for it. “Looks like this might take a while.”

      “It can be a bit confusing. But if you have any questions, feel free to give me a call.”

      “I will.” Hugging the envelope to her chest, she stood. “Thank you for seeing me, Cam. I appreciate it.”

      “Not a problem, Taryn.” He stood and rounded the desk. “It’s always good to see you.” He opened the door, allowing the cooler air from the lobby to filter into the small space. “Tell your folks I said hi.”

      “I’ll do that.”

      Getting into her Jeep, she breathed a sigh of relief. Step one, complete. She carefully laid the envelope on the passenger seat. With only a million more steps to go. How was she ever going to do this? She didn’t know the first thing about a business plan.

      Maybe she could ask Blakely. She had her own business. Of course, she’d inherited it from her grandfather. No business plan involved there.

      The image of a handsome Texan popped into her head. Not the first time she’d thought of Cash today. Matter of fact, he’d littered her dreams all night. If anyone knew about business, it was Cash. He’d know exactly what to do.

      * * *

      Since Gramps barely knew what Wi-Fi was, let alone had it in his house, Cash made himself at home at a table in the backroom of a deli he found on Main Street. He needed to accomplish some work or he’d be completely behind when he got back to the office on Monday.

      His first order of business had been that delayed shipment to Wiseman’s. Turned out a big snowstorm in the northeastern part of the country had shut down roads, temporarily halting aluminum shipments, which, in turn, had slowed production.

      After talking things over with his father, Cash phoned the distributor, explained the situation and offered a partial shipment. Wiseman’s was happy, his father was happy, and that meant Cash was happy. Rubbing the back of his neck, he eyed the snow-covered peaks beyond the windows. Well, he was at least satisfied.

      He took a sip of his coffee and perused Coble Trailers’ latest sales figures. Better than he expected. With their new manufacturing facility, they were the largest supplier in the region. Before long, they’d be ready to go national.

      “What do you think you’re doing?”

      Despite hitting a somewhat sour note during their walk last night, he couldn’t help smiling when he saw Taryn staring down at him. Although, she didn’t look nearly as happy to see him.

      “Just getting a little work done.”

      “Did you accomplish anything?” Fists dug into her hips, she looked madder’n an old wet hen.

      “A little. Yes.”

      “Good.” She turned the laptop to face her, made a couple of clicks and closed the lid.

      “What are you doing?”

      She tucked the laptop under her arm. “Teaching you how to have fun.”

      With determined steps, she crossed the worn wooden floor, past the glass case filled with pastries and out the door. He shoved aside his mounting irritation and followed her outside.

      She opened the door of a silver Jeep. “Hop in.”

      “Do I have a choice?”

      “Not if you want to see your laptop again.” She smiled at him.

      Like he couldn’t get it back if he wanted to. Strange thing was, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to.

      The midmorning sun emerged from a cloud, chasing the chill away as he climbed into the passenger seat. “What now?”

      “Hang on and enjoy the ride.” She pulled out onto Main Street and made a quick U-turn.

      “How did you know where to find me?” He eyed the hot springs pool as they headed north.

      “Your grandfather. Which reminds me, how dare you leave him to go work? You only have a couple of days in town. Couldn’t you at least devote your time to him?”

      “Then why are you taking me in the opposite direction?”

      “I have your grandfather’s blessing. But he wants pictures.”

      “Pictures?” He jerked a look at her now. “Just where exactly are you taking me?”

      Past Rotary Park, she turned off toward Lake Lenore and the Bachelor Syracuse, an old mine that now did tours, taking people inside the mountain and explaining what it was like to be a miner. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

      The need to reprimand her taunting evaporated. On the contrary, he found her playfulness endearing.

      He remained quiet while she maneuvered the narrow, tree-lined road, admiring the red sandstone formations in the distance. A fair amount of snow clung to the mountaintops and crevices. Nothing to write home about. Then he spotted the slab of ice that cascaded down the face of one of them.

      He swallowed hard as they drew closer. His palms grew sweaty. “What