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Lila’s eyes rolled in Kit’s direction. Kit’s answering shrug was the embodiment of whatever.
Yeah, he was really firing them up. Any more enthusiasm and they’d be asleep.
Ernie raised a beefy hand and Tyler nodded to him, relieved that finally someone cared.
“Does this mean we’ll get more hours?”
Hallelujah for something he could say yes to. “Once we’ve renovated and we’re up and running, you’ll definitely have more hours if you want them.”
Mario, one of the part-time bartenders, yawned. So much for wowing them. Tyler’s gaze went to Kit with a will of its own. She was staring somewhere over his shoulder. He followed the direction of her gaze. She was watching the clock.
This chat wasn’t working, but he didn’t know what else to do except keep going. “We’ll have a lot to offer once the renovations are complete. I’d like to add a restaurant with an outdoor barbecue area. And a stage and a dance floor. I’m going to restore the barn and build a small arena. I’m hoping to start a rodeo school. Any questions?”
Of course not.
Then a hand came up. Not one he wanted to choose. “Kit?”
She gave him a smile laced with ice. “Are you gonna give us a raise?”
Damn it. Trust her to ask what he couldn’t answer. “I’m still going over the figures. I’ll know more after I draw up cost projections, revenue estimates, stuff like that.”
She gave him a cool look. “It just seems like if you have all this money to transform the Dusty Saddle into a one-stop cowboy experience, you must have enough to compensate the people who’ll be doing all the work.”
Ouch. Her cutting summation of his plans stung. She was walking a thin line, but he’d be cool about it, for now. “I’ll work hard, too. And I won’t pay myself until we’re profitable. I’ll certainly consider raises once we start making some money.”
There was a slight stirring among the staff, an exhaled breath of relief. It must have been the right thing to say. Or as close to right as he’d gotten so far. But it was clear he was missing something here. Some chance. He could feel it as sure he knew a bull would shift left or right.
His palms were damp. He wasn’t used to talking like this, trying to inspire others. Put him on a bull and he’d inspire. With actions. With stamina. But with words, he was out of his league. “Look, you all probably know I’ve spent the past few years hitting the rodeos. But I also spent a lot of time with corporate sponsors, doing promotion, stuff like that.”
“‘Me and my Wranglers,’” Lila purred. “Yeah, we saw the commercial.”
Heat crept from his collar to his jaw. In the commercial Lila referred to, the camera had been mainly focused on his ass. “I may not have experience owning a bar. But I learned some stuff about business along the way. I’m no expert, but I have a feeling about this place.”
He paused, gratified to see a few nods from the bouncers and Mario. “I’ve thought my plans through and I know I can make this place profitable. I just need good people around me to do it. I need you, if you’ll give it a try with me.”
“What if we like the Saddle the way it is?” Kit leaned forward, her elbows on the table and, oh boy, her neckline had slid down, treating him to an eyeful of what he should not be looking at. When he raised his glance he saw the fierce emotion in her eyes. She wasn’t giving him a hard time for the heck of it. For some reason, she loved this place, ripped vinyl, filthy floor and all.
“There’s history here. I get that. But let’s be honest, most customers don’t appreciate it. The bar is empty most weeknights.”
“It’s a small town. No one’s out drinking,” Kit shot back.
“It’s a growing town, and the High Country is packed. Look, if we can’t bring more customers in, this place will go under. Chris knew it. He told me himself when he sold it to me. And Kit, weren’t you just asking me about raises?”
She looked at him sharply and he knew he’d hit a nerve.
“You can’t have it both ways,” he said. “You can’t keep the Dusty Saddle the way it’s always been and expect a living wage from it. So we’re going to need to make changes.”
“Don’t get all sentimental, Kit.” Loomis finally looked up from his boot. “More money sounds pretty good to me.”
“Amen,” Ernie added, and Tyler saw several other heads nod around the room.
At least he’d gotten one thing right. He didn’t need everyone on board—and clearly Kit wasn’t signing up for the Tyler Ellis fan club anytime soon—but he needed some of the staff with him. He looked at Kit. “Not all change is bad. It might even be fun.”
“Depends on your idea of fun,” Kit murmured, ostensibly to Lila but loud enough for him to hear, too.
“Any questions?” Tyler deliberately looked over Kit’s head.
“You gonna change the name?” Tim, a bartender, glanced around. “The Dusty Saddle doesn’t really fit what you’re describing.”
“I hadn’t thought about it yet.”
“How about the Last Rodeo?” Kit asked, fluttering her eyelashes innocently when he glared at her. “I mean, since you just had yours, right?”
“Ouch,” Mario murmured.
“Isn’t that a little depressing?” Tim nudged Kit with his elbow. “Not sure we’ll get people in the party spirit with that one.”
“I kind of like it,” Lila countered. “It’s mysterious. Like Tyler’s rodeo days are over and so what comes next?”
“Dance floors and big-screen TVs, apparently,” Kit tossed in. “Not very mysterious, really.”
“Let’s not worry about it now.” A weariness crawled up Tyler’s spine, threatening to bring on the headaches he sometimes got from too many falls in the arena. “Plenty of time to come up with a name. For now, you’ll all pull schedules similar to what you’ve been doing. If you want to change that, let me know.”
He pulled his new business cards—hot off the press—out of his pocket. An old saddle in faded sepia. His name and contact information in bold letters. He handed one to everyone, feeling inexplicably like a tool. “Call me with any questions or concerns. The schedule will be posted Tuesday, like always.”
“We post it on Monday,” Kit corrected.
He glanced her way to see if she was messing with him again. Her slight smile was unreadable. “Chris said Tuesdays.”
“Chris hasn’t done it in five years.”
“Oh.” This was news to him. But there were bound to be surprises. “Okay, so who makes the schedule?”
“Kit,” Lila answered. “She does everything around here.”
Tyler looked at Kit but she regarded him calmly, not offering any confirmation.
“Well, Kit, maybe you and I could meet and you could bring me up to speed.”
“I’m not working today,” she said.
“Okay, so when are you working?”
“I’m not sure, since no one made the schedule.” At Tyler’s exasperated look, she opened her hands in a gesture of innocence. “Hey, I didn’t know. I thought, as the new owner, you might want to take it on.”
Tyler looked around, feeling a twinge of desperation. “So no one knows when they’re working this week?”
Ten heads shook no.
“Right. Call me later today and I’ll have your hours. Anyone want to work today?”
Ten pairs of eyes exchanged furtive you-do-it glances. He got it. Once a day off was promised, it was hard to let it go. Especially since they’d all given up their morning for a staff meeting.
He’d never thought his first day on the job would be so rocky. Maybe his ego was a little too big. In the arenas, on the road, he was someone special. People wanted his autograph, a handshake, a piece of his attention. But this meeting reminded him that here in Benson, he was still the same screw-up he’d always been.
“Thanks for coming,” he said. “Make sure to put this hour on your time card.” The last sentence was lost in the sound of scraping chairs. It was the most enthusiasm he’d seen so far from the employees. And it all centered on getting the hell out of there.
Well, at least today would give him some time here. He could practice making a few drinks. Maybe he should have considered, before he bought a bar, that he had no idea how to bartend.
He walked to the office and stared at the blank wipe-off calendar titled Schedule. How did he figure out who went where? The lines seemed to bend and blur.
“Welcome to the world of bar ownership.” Kit leaned against the door frame, the position accentuating all the curves defined by her tight black dress.
“Your type of welcome sucks, to be honest. If you want to work for me, don’t act like that in a staff meeting again.”
“Or what? You’ll keep up the family tradition and fire me?”
He tried to process her words. “What are you talking about?”
She straightened, her arms crossed, outraged, across her chest. “Oh, didn’t you know? Your dad fired mine. After my father spent his life working on your ranch.”
Tyler knew he should say something, but shock wiped out any response. Kit’s dad had been Tyler’s mentor. Garth had spent countless hours teaching Tyler how to ride bulls. “When did this happen?”
“A few months ago,” Kit bit the words out, and he could see the emotion she was holding back, in her too-bright eyes and the pink flush staining her cheekbones.
“I had no idea. I haven’t spent a lot of time on the ranch since I came home. I’ve rented a house in town.” It had been a relief to move off the ranch a few days ago. An even bigger relief, now that he had this piece of news to digest. His dad had fired Garth? “Is your dad okay? Does he need anything?”
Pride closed down Kit’s face. He could see it in the tilt of her chin, the press of her full lips into a rigid line. “He’s fine.” But it was clear that she was lying.
Tyler could picture exactly what had happened. His cold, logical dad doing the calculations and deciding that Garth Hayes was no longer an economically sound employee.
A sick feeling melted into Tyler’s stomach. Garth had toiled on Sierra Canyon Ranch from dawn until past dusk six days a week for as long as Tyler could remember.
“I tried to talk to your dad last week. My dad borrowed against his pension fund, so he’s broke now.” Kit’s voice had tears in it, though she’d never let them show. “I asked your dad to forgive the debt. But he wouldn’t bend.”
“Why did your dad need that loan?” Tyler put out a hand to stop her. “Never mind. It’s not my business.”
“It’s okay.” Kit sighed. “Ask anyone in town and they’ll tell you. When I turned eighteen, my mom asked my dad for a divorce. Seems she’d always hated it here. She left and broke my dad’s heart.”
“I had no idea.” Kit’s mom had never come around the ranch, but he’d see her in town and at school events. She’d worn long, flowing skirts and a remote expression on her face.
“My dad still loved my mom. He wanted her to be happy. So he took out that loan to help her start a new life and a business. She owns a groovy crystal shop in a little town on the Oregon coast.”
“No kidding.” Tyler tried to read her mood.
“She even changed her name. She’s Starflower Kindness now, owner of Kindness Crystals and Healing. You can look her up. She has an online store, too.”
Kit was tough, as always, shrugging like she didn’t care. From the tremor in her husky voice, he’d bet she cared a lot.
“Have you seen her?”
“Once or twice. But not lately, because she never paid Dad back. And now he’s struggling to get by. I have trouble forgiving her for that.”
“Makes sense.” It was tragic that her family had fallen apart. Doubly tragic that her dad had sacrificed so much to make sure the woman who’d left him would be okay. “I’ll speak to my father. I’ll try to make this right. Your dad deserves a hell of a lot better after all he did for my family. And for me.”
She nodded, and he realized it wouldn’t help to say more now. He’d talk to his dad, and if by some miracle he got anywhere, he could share that with Kit. Anything else would be empty promises. But they had something else between them that needed to be resolved.
“I can see why you’re upset at my dad. But I don’t want it to cause trouble with the staff. If you’re pissed at me, tell me straight.”
She didn’t answer right away, but he saw a twist of guilt in her guarded expression. Finally she sighed. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have been so rude in the meeting. It won’t happen again.”
“Okay. Good.” He wasn’t sure what else to say now that he’d finished laying down the law. But he still had his own guilt to assuage. “The other night, when I sprang the news on you about buying the bar... I should never have shown up here drunk. And I have a feeling I said some other things I shouldn’t have.”
She smiled faintly. “You did. But if I had a problem dealing with drunks, I’d have quit this job a long time ago.”
He nodded at the truth there. “Seems to me you’re kind of an expert. You had me on the ground faster than a pissed-off bull.”
“It comes in handy.”
“I could use a great bartender like you. I hope you’ll stick around.”
She studied him for a long moment, then nodded, as if considering his invitation. “Do you want help with the schedule?”
He didn’t recognize all the new hard edges on her, but this was more like the Kit he remembered from childhood. Getting mad, forgiving easily, then moving on. “Sure.”
She tossed her thick black hair over her shoulder. “Okay, so...move over.” She walked into the tiny office, brushing up against him to get by. She paused, so close to him that her full breasts pressed into his torso. “Hey, boss? Maybe enlarge this office as part of your remodel. Because this isn’t going to work.”
That was for damn sure. He could barely breathe. His brain had dropped below his belt, making it crystal clear that she was definitely not the same childhood friend he’d known. “The schedule?”
Her derisive smile was back, letting him know she saw the effect she had on him. “Scoot over.”
He shuffled out of her way and she grabbed a file out of a cabinet by the desk. “Let’s talk at the bar.”
He led the way into the empty room, relieved to have more space between them. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, conscious that it was his first time offering anyone anything in his new place.
“Just soda water.”
Tyler went behind the bar and grabbed two glasses. He set them on the counter, then realized he had no idea how to get her what she’d asked for.
“You need a little help?”
He nodded. “And I bet you’re going to give me a hard time about it?”
But she didn’t. Just slid off her stool and came around the bar. “Ice is in that cooler,” she said, pointing to a built-in compartment. “And soda, tonic, it’s all from this gun.” She pointed to a black nozzle that was hooked to a metal bracket.
He picked it up. There were different buttons marked with letters.
“S for soda water.” She put ice in their glasses, then held them out.
