Chapter 21
INDYA
My gaze drifted from my laptop to the painting hung on the office’s wall.
The watercolor horse stared right back.
I’d assumed it had been West’s artwork. It looked like something he’d choose for an office.
But maybe Courtney had used this space when she’d worked here.
Had this been her office? Had she spent hours behind this desk? Had she loved that chair I’d tossed weeks ago?
Maybe the reason West rarely came through the door wasn’t
because of me.
But Courtney.
Her name was now linked in my brain to this office. To this ranch.
To its downfall.
I had a name to blame. Courtney.
And Curtis.
West had struggled with his father for years, but I’d always thought their arguments were over minor disagreements, like the location of a fence’s gate. Or a junk pile of equipment.
How could Curtis have gone behind West’s back and made that land purchase? Had he known it was foolish? Had he assumed West would disagree?
Whatever Curtis’s reasoning, it was wrong. Just like it had been wrong for him to sell this ranch to me without involving West either.
I’d assumed that West had known. That while I’d been scrambling to pull this off, Curtis had kept West in the loop. The few conversations I’d had with Curtis during the negotiations had been brief.
But he’d really just dismissed West entirely. Was that how Curtis’s father had treated him? Was that just the Haven way?
It was such a betrayal. How was West so calm about it? It had been over a month, and every time I thought about it, I got angry.
Yet West had seemed so steady during our walk last night. Or maybe he was numb.
Well, I had enough rage for us both. And Curtis wasn’t even my father.
Dad had always said such wonderful things about Curtis. He’d called him good people.
Had I put too much stock in my father’s opinion? Had his high regard clouded my own judgment?
Dad had gotten it wrong with Curtis. He’d gotten it wrong with Blaine too.
Just the thought of Blaine’s name made my lip curl. His latest email was at the top of my inbox, marked unread. I didn’t need to open the
message to know what was inside.
A demand.
Blaine was always making demands. But we weren’t married anymore. I owed him nothing. So he could take my silence as an answer.
No.
It was the same answer I’d emailed him after his early-morning call.
With a quick tap on the delete key, his email whooshed into the digital trash. I opened up Google, about to check our recent reviews, when a knock came at the door.
“Hey, Indya,” Tara said as she walked inside. “Do you have a
minute?”
“Of course.”
She frowned at a folding chair before taking a seat.
“I know I need better chairs. It just hasn’t been a priority.” And I didn’t get many visitors in here. The staff, even the new employees, seemed to avoid my office. Anytime I had an interview, I conducted it in the dining room, where it was light and spacious.
“I have a—” She stopped herself, her eyes narrowing on my face.
“You look exhausted.”
“I am exhausted.” I wasn’t even offended at the comment. It was the truth. “I haven’t been sleeping well. There’s an owl outside the cabin
that has made it his or her personal mission in life to ensure I get no more than four hours of rest per night.”
Though the owl had been noticeably absent last night. That, or I just hadn’t heard it with West in my bed.
“An owl. You know, one of the boys could take care of that problem for you.”
I yawned, covering it with my hand. “Boys?”
“West or Jax. I’ll never not think of them as boys. Lily is my best friend in the world, and they’re the closest thing I have to sons of my own.”
“Ah.” That was sweet. “I’m sure the owl will go away soon.”
“I’m surprised West didn’t chase it off.” There was a glint in Tara’s eyes.
Damn it. If Tara knew West had been in my bed, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the resort did too. If they didn’t already.
I hadn’t seen him since he’d slipped out of the Beartooth at dawn.
But obviously someone had been paying attention.
We couldn’t keep doing this, could we? We couldn’t keep pretending like we were the same people we had been before. This wasn’t a weeklong tryst. I wasn’t here on vacation.
For the first time in my life, I could have West for more than seven days. Except we were still sneaking around like teenagers. There were no promises. No commitments.
And I was leaving. Maybe not in a week, but I was leaving.
I was going to have to give him up again, wasn’t I?
Forever this time.
The ache in my chest was so powerful it made it hard to breathe. I reached for my water bottle, then took a long drink to clear the lump in my throat. Then I forced a smile for Tara.
“What’s up?” I asked, refusing to even acknowledge her comment about West.
“The county grader is here for the road.”
“Finally.” I sighed. “It only took me eleven phone calls.” And each of them worth my time and persistence if the washboard and potholes
would be a thing of the past.
“Pays to be the squeaky wheel.”
“I am not afraid to pester.”
“Good.” She laughed. “We need more pester around this place.
Which leads me to my next topic.”
“Okay,” I drawled.
“I think we need to hire a float position. Someone who can cover the desk or pitch in with housekeeping, depending on occupancy.”
“Good idea. I’ll get a position listed.”
She blinked. “R-really? I had a whole speech prepared to convince
you.”
“Would you like to give it?”
“Not really.” She laughed. “Thank you.”
“Absolutely.”
I’d already put together financial projections with added staff members. My spreadsheets had been keeping me company in the early- morning hours after Mr. Owl had woken me from a dead sleep.
The cost of another staff member would not significantly impact our returns as long as we maintained a 70 percent occupancy rate in the lodge during the summer season. We needed only 30 percent occupancy in the fall and spring. And I’d been conservative with my estimations and planned zero for the winter.
Now that the resort had no debt and I’d given it a healthy influx of capital, it would be a profitable business. If things kept going well, by next year, some of the cash flow could be channeled into improvements.
We were 94 percent occupied for the rest of the summer season.
There were a few rooms on a few odd days still vacant, but otherwise, we were booked to capacity. I’d asked my marketing company to give me an ads liaison, and the campaign we’d launched on Facebook and Instagram, targeting Montana residents, had worked.
“How are the guests?” I asked Tara. “Everyone happy?”
“No complaints. The wine selection has been a huge hit. And Reid’s new menu is the talk of the town. We’re getting calls from people asking if the dining room is open to the public.”
“Really?” Huh. “I’ll be damned.”
Forcing Reid to add vegetarian options to the menu had inspired him to get creative with our food offerings. He’d pitched the new menu to me two weeks ago, and when I’d given him the go-ahead, he’d ordered supplies immediately.
All I’d asked was that we keep the traditional Saturday campfire cookout and that he pair dinner meals with our new wine selection.
Mom’s personal sommelier had sent me his latest recommendations. The two massive wine coolers I’d bought for the kitchen were now fully stocked. Those coolers were the reason Lisa, our bartender, now smiled whenever we crossed paths.
It had taken me weeks, but I’d finally gotten the financials in order.
The ranch had been the easy part. West had begrudgingly sent me his spreadsheets last week. Curtis might not have let him in on the land purchase, but otherwise, West ran the cattle operation with precision and efficiency.
He kept detailed income and expense records. He had spreadsheets for pasture rotations and cow tags. He used hedging to offset market risks, and while some years were better than others, the ranch made good money.
Compared to the ranch’s data, the resort’s accounting had been a hot mess.
Curtis had lumped all the departments together, and getting an accurate idea of which areas made money and their respective margins
was impossible.
Not anymore.
Cabin reservations turned the highest profit, or would once the remodels were complete. Rooms at the lodge were a close second.
Excursions were also quite profitable, though the total revenue amount was low because there was only so much we could charge to stick a person on a horse. Still, it was in the black.
Dining and alcohol? Bright red. My price increases for our all- inclusive packages would help, but if we could pull in locals for date nights or special celebrations, that might chip away at the losses too.
“We should open the restaurant to the public. I’ll talk to Reid about what that would entail. We’ll need a reservation system and to decide how many additional patrons we could accommodate on top of guests.
We’ll probably want a dedicated page on the website. Maybe the occasional ad in the local paper.”
“Your brain moves a mile a minute, doesn’t it?” Tara asked.
I smiled. “Most days.”
There wasn’t another option. If I was going to turn this resort into a successful business in less than a year, there was no time to dawdle with these changes. Before I left Montana, Haven River Ranch needed to work like a well-oiled machine.
“I’ll let you work.” Tara stood. “I’d better get back to the desk anyway. Finish up a few things before I head home.”
“Thanks. For everything.”
“Right back atcha. I doubt Curtis will ever admit it, but you’re doing incredible things here, Indya. We needed you.”
That lump returned to my throat, double the size, but I managed to
choke out a garbled “Thank you.”
She’d used West’s exact words.
We needed you.
It had been a long time since I’d felt needed. Wanted. I’d missed being wanted. Probably because the man who’d always made me feel desired was West, and we’d spent too many years apart.
But maybe this year in Montana wouldn’t be so rough, after all.
Maybe West and I could fall into a friendship of sorts. Go back to where we’d started.
Get to know each other, like we had last night.
We’d talked for hours about nothing. About everything. We’d asked each other endless questions while we’d been curled together in my bed.
His favorite food was cheeseburgers. He couldn’t remember the last physical book he’d read, but he listened to audiobooks—thrillers were his favorite. If he were stranded on a deserted island and he could take only three things, he’d choose an axe, a lighter, and me.
He’d choose me for his island.
Every time I thought about it, I smiled.
My phone vibrated on my desk, and the name on the screen not only erased my smile, but triggered an eye twitch. Blaine. It was like he could sense I was in a good mood. That, or I’d deleted his email. If I sent him to voice mail, he’d just call again and again and again.
“Hello,” I answered.
“You’re ignoring me.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I answered your call, didn’t I?”
“And my email?”
This man could annihilate a nice day faster than a lightning bolt could split a tree. “The answer is no. It will continue to be no, regardless of how many times you ask the same question.”
“Indya.”
“Blaine.” I mimicked his warning tone. “Send the papers. There is no reason for me to come to Texas to sign them. I’m busy working. So unless there’s something else, please hear me.”
That was all I’d ever asked of Blaine. Not just to listen. But to hear me. I wasn’t sure he was even capable. I’d spent our marriage screaming into a void.
Blaine stayed silent on the other end of the line. A silence I’d received far too many times.
It meant he wasn’t done arguing. It meant he’d keep pushing and pushing and pushing until I caved.
Not this time. I wasn’t giving in. He’d already gotten everything he wanted. This last concession, this distance, was mine to keep.
I ended the call, not caring that it would only antagonize my ex- husband. It wasn’t the first time I’d hung up on Blaine. It wouldn’t be the last.
The horse in the painting was staring at me when I glanced across the desk. Was he frowning? It looked like he was frowning.
He was probably Courtney’s horse. A grumpy horse.
I didn’t feel like suffering through his attitude for the rest of the afternoon, so I closed down my laptop, stowed it in my tote, and left the office for the kitchen.
Reid was dressed in his usual chef’s coat and baggy pants.
Tonight’s bandanna was orange. Rather than tennis shoes, today he was sporting red Crocs with yellow socks.
“Howdy,” he said from the prep table, where he was mixing an orzo pasta salad.
My mouth watered at the sight of crisp cucumbers and plump
tomatoes.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Starving.” I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
Reid grinned and went to fetch a plate. And after I ate some of the pasta salad, we talked for nearly two hours about opening the restaurant to the public.
He had his concerns. I was learning that Reid’s first reaction to new ideas was an automatic no. But the longer we talked, and the more time I gave him to ponder, the more he considered the possibility. By the time the waitstaff was prepped for the dinner rush, Reid was penciling out additions for his budget.
A budget he’d bitched and moaned about when I’d presented it to him weeks ago.
A budget he had quickly embraced and was now ruling with an iron fist. Apparently, he didn’t like being dead last in the profit margin race.
“I want this to be reservation only,” he said. “People need to think ahead to eat here.”
This wasn’t an exclusive restaurant in New York City. If this was going to work, we weren’t going to turn customers away. He’d probably come to that conclusion himself. Eventually. If not, I’d set the parameters myself.
“Let’s both mull this over for a bit,” I said. “We can firm up details
in a few days.”
He nodded. “All right.”
“I’ll let you get back to work. Thanks for your time.”
“Do you want dinner?”
Yes. I was starving, and that pasta salad hadn’t been enough.
“Would you mind?”
“What do you feel like? The special tonight is a barbecue burger.”
“That sounds great. Would you mind making two?”
“No problem. Give me a few. We’ll wrap them up and bring them out.”
“Thanks.” I waved and left him to work, wandering through the dining room to visit with guests while I waited.
I’d just finished a conversation with a newlywed couple from Utah when one of the waitresses appeared with a plastic to-go sack with two
containers inside.
“Here you go, Miss Keller.”
“Thank you.” With my food in hand, I left the dining room.
Tara’s new clerk was at the desk. She was one of Hannah’s friends from high school, and though incredibly shy, she was sweet. I smiled at her, then hurried out of the lodge and to my car parked outside the Beartooth.
My nerves spiraled as I made my way to West’s house. This was okay, right? Me showing up with dinner? He wouldn’t think this was clingy or needy, would he?
It had been a long time since I’d worried about this stuff. The last guy I’d dated was Blaine. And even then, I couldn’t remember being this anxious or excited to just . . . see him.
West had always given me butterflies.
My heart was racing by the time I parked outside his house. The moment I stepped outside and slammed my car door, he walked out his door.
His stride was easy. Confident. A swagger of sorts, but not forced or cocky. It was confident. That was West. He stood at the top of his porch stairs with a crooked grin toying at his lips. “Hey.”
“Hi.” Someday, I wouldn’t sound like a breathless teenager when I saw him. Not today, but someday.
He was dressed in jeans and a faded navy Montana State University T-shirt that strained around his biceps and stretched over that broad chest. His hair was damp, his feet bare. He’d probably worked all day
outside and come home for a shower.
“What’s in the bag?” he asked.
“Dinner.”
“Dinner. That’s a new concept for us.”
“What do you mean? We’ve had dinner together before. What about all those hot dogs we cooked over the campfire?”
“Woman.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, covering a smile.
“Sometimes I wonder if you were born to argue with me.”
“I like arguing with you.”
“I like it too.”
God, it was fun, flirting with West. We hadn’t flirted enough. “The dinner is a bribe.”
“Oh, this should be good.” Humor danced in his vibrant hazel eyes.
“What are the terms of this bribe, Miss Keller?”
“There’s an owl outside the cabin. He keeps waking me up.”
“An owl?” West quirked an eyebrow.
“I’m not making it up. He wasn’t there last night. But there’s an owl, and he hoots, and it wakes me up. So I’m bribing you with dinner.
Burgers and pasta salad in exchange for eight hours of undisturbed sleep.”
He walked down the stairs, taking each step deliberately. His movements were timed with the thuds of my heart. And even though his feet were bare, he stepped onto the gravel, closing the distance between us until his chest brushed mine.
West’s gaze roved my face, probably seeing the exhaustion that Tara had so bluntly called out earlier. He twirled a lock of my hair around his index finger. “You know I can’t promise eight hours of
undisturbed sleep.”
I was counting on it. “Seven.”
His eyes narrowed. “Six.”
“Deal.” I lifted up on my toes, searching for his mouth, when the sound of a car made me pause.
West’s eyes darted over my head to the road. His entire frame went rigid.
“What?” I turned, seeing a shiny red Honda.
“Fuck,” he clipped.
The car turned, then parked at a different angle than I’d pulled in the Defender. Parallel to the house, not perpendicular, like the driver
expected to be kicked off the property.
“Who—”
Before I could finish my question, the door opened, and a woman stepped out. She glanced around before shoving her sunglasses into her sleek, dark hair.
Her brown eyes landed on West, and she stood taller, shutting the car’s door and rounding the hood. She moved with grace, practically floating over the coarse gravel of his driveway.
All my life I’d been jealous of women who didn’t trip over their own feet.
She smiled, and it was stunning. Without a doubt, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
I’d had that same thought when I’d met her, years ago.
“Hey, West.”
He stared at her for a long moment; then the tension in his frame seemed to melt away. “Hi, Courtney.”
