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The chicken parm came on two more platters, one for Callie and one for Reed. A mountain of spaghetti was stacked on the side.
“It’s amazing that you, Jesse and Luke are the first three in the standings. What are the odds of that?” Callie asked twirling some spaghetti with her fork.
Reed tried the chicken. Delicious. “I don’t have a clue about the odds, but I like the fact that the Beaumont Big Guns are in the top three. And Luke was even going to retire after he got married, but I’m guessing that he’s going to give the Finals another go. So, he’s riding in another circuit to keep in the game while on an extended honeymoon. Amber is traveling with him and they are having a great time. She loves it.”
Callie sat as still as a statue.
“We could have had a great time, too, Callie.”
She shook her head. “My father left us with thousands of dollars in credit card debt from his gambling addiction before he split for Tahiti with Tish Holcomb, rich widow and my father’s latest meal ticket. Besides, Reed, admit it—we were too young.”
“We might have been young, but we were certainly mature.” He sighed. “Your father should have paid his own debts, not saddle you and your mother with them.”
“I agree, but most of the cards were in my mother’s name, and the creditors were tormenting us.”
He sighed. “You could have followed me at any time. We talked about that, but I didn’t hear from you and I missed you.”
“The phone works both ways, Reed. You could have called me, but the Beaumont grapevine said that you had the company of your buckle bunnies.”
“There weren’t any buckle bunnies—at least, none that I’d have liked to spend my life with.”
There was silence as they both played with their spaghetti.
He tossed down his fork and gritted his teeth. “Amber, I could have helped you.”
She shook her head. “It was my responsibility.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” He exhaled a loud breath. “Is your mom okay now?”
“No. It came back. She’s going through chemo now.” Tears stung her eyes. “Can we please change the subject? Let’s go back to bull riding. It’s mostly neutral.
“Yeah. Okay.” Reed twirled his spaghetti with his fork. “How are your brothers doing? They have to be—what?—seniors in high school by now.” He was still reeling. He hadn’t known Mrs. Wainright had breast cancer again.
“The twins are great. They both got football scholarships. John is going to Notre Dame and Joe will be playing at the University of Southern California.”
“Fabulous. I can’t wait to see them play.”
“They are both fans of yours. They’re hoping you beat Luke for the championship in Vegas.”
“So do I, but if I don’t and he gets a fourth victory, it’ll be a record that’ll stand for a long time. That is, until I beat it.” He laughed. “Jesse will ride the best he can, too. Maybe he’ll be the one who’ll beat Luke. But, as the saying goes, one cowboy against one bull.”
She smiled slightly. “One cowboy against one bull. And one woman against one bull rider. I have to get back to work. I can’t be playing all the time.” She paused for several uncomfortable seconds. “And Reed, I think we should maintain a business relationship only. No more personal questions.”
Reed raised an eyebrow. “Every woman I know likes to talk about herself.”
Callie shook her head. “I don’t.”
“I guess I stand corrected,” he said. “We’ll limit our conversation to sex, drugs and rock and roll, but not if it pertains to ourselves.”
“Exactly.” Callie nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “Then let’s talk about sex.”
* * *
CALLIE PUSHED AROUND a piece of chicken on her plate and wondered what on earth she should do.
But she didn’t want to bare her soul to Reed. She’d done that way too many times with other men.
She’d told herself that she was going to take a break from men, and she’d meant it, and that included the amiable and happy-go-lucky Reed Beaumont.
Maybe she was only rowing with one oar, but she was going to stick to her promise to herself: concentrate on her business. Maybe someday she’d get her dream of going back to college.
“What did you say, Reed?”
“You look a million miles away.”
“I guess I was,” she said. “I guess I was just thinking.”
“I don’t suppose you’d care to share.”
“No. It was nothing important. And it wasn’t about sex.”
Maybe indirectly it was about sex or lack thereof.
Callie was glad when Darlene returned with their take-out boxes and plastic bags. Callie put what was left of her meal into the containers. Reed did the same.
“This is going to be breakfast tomorrow,” he said, and Callie believed him. Inez, the cook at the Beaumont Ranch, had just left for vacation.
Al returned, wiping his hands on his apron. “I always think when I work, and I think that you both are perfect together. So, let me show you my new reception halls.”
Reed looked at Callie and raised an eyebrow. “Shall we, darling?”
Callie wasn’t amused.
“Uh... Al...we have only become reacquainted for—” he checked his watch “—about three hours so far. As much as I like Callie, I don’t want to rush things. Right, honey pie, my sweetheart darling?”
She tried not to laugh, she really did, but Reed always had a way of making her heart feel lighter, happier.
“Well, my beloved, I think we should leave before Al has us picking out a menu for our reception,” Callie joked.
“Maybe we need to pick out rings first!”
“First, you need to go down on one knee,” she instructed.
“I can’t. I have a torn meniscus.”
Callie looked up at the ceiling, painted with a landscape of Venice’s Grand Canal with more gondolas than people. The artist loved his gondolas.
“We’d better go, Reed. I am way behind on my work today.”
She started walking quickly, wanting to leave all the proposal, ring and reception talk behind.
Reed cleared his throat. “Ah, the real Callie returns. Nose-to-grindstone.”
She was going to say something snooty in return but Reed was shaking hands with Al and she remembered her manners.
Walking back, she said, “Thanks, Al. Another great meal.” She held out her hand, but he wrapped her in a hug instead. “Oh, we forgot our doggie boxes, Reed. I’ll go get them.”
She picked up the bags containing their leftover meals and couldn’t resist peeking into the two rooms labeled Room A and Room B. They’d be perfect for an elegant wedding reception.
Hurrying back, she walked to the parking lot with Reed, and they got into Callie’s SUV.
Reed chuckled. “You’re not the only one who’s going to be busy. Onward to the Beaumont Ranch, please. I have a lot of calls to make to find contractors.”
“And I have a lot of paperwork to handle and file.”
Callie had an excellent reputation for doing quality work, but it wouldn’t hurt to give it more of a boost. She could raise her fees after working for the Beaumonts; their positive endorsement of her skills would get around the small town like wildfire.
“Can we share Big Dan’s study?” Reed asked.
It was his father’s study, after all, so she had no right to keep him out of the room. Wait a minute! The brothers had bought the ranch at a tax auction because Big Dan hadn’t paid the taxes and had ignored the upkeep after Valerie Lynn’s death. So, Reed owned one-third of the ranch and the study was his, too.
“We could share the study on a trial basis,” Callie said, turning left onto Rabbit Run Road. “If we can’t work together, I can pack up everything and move someplace else and just go in there to file.”
“But, Callie, we can get along. After all, we are faux engaged.”
“And faux engaged is all that we’ll ever be.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah!”
“Is that some kind of a challenge for me to ask you out?” Reed asked.
“No. It is not. No way. Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not flirting with you. I’m telling you straight. I’m not interested in developing a relationship with you, Reed, or any man. Not at all. I’ve struck out way too many times.”
Chapter Three (#u124ce357-a25d-5c76-bde9-15bc40835395)
Callie was as prickly as a saguaro cactus. Reed should take the hint and stay away, but instead he was going to enjoy the challenge of getting to know her all over again.
In senior year of high school, he had fallen in love with the shy girl who was always ready with a smile and a laugh, but this Callie had ten years of secrets that had etched worry lines on her forehead. He planned on finding out what had caused them. And he wanted to bring laughter into her life again.
Or was he just being a fool and trying to salvage a relationship that was in the dreams of an eighteen-year-old?
Right now, he was thinking of an excuse to go to his father’s study to look for something, or to ask her something, or to maybe bring her a glass of iced tea.
He went into the kitchen and looked into the fridge. Inez had made a pitcher of iced tea, bless her.
Finding a glass with a snap-on top, he tossed some ice into it, poured in the tea and put the container into a plastic grocery bag. Then he made his way into the study.
He found Callie sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by papers and envelopes. There were two pens stuck into her hair and a pair of glasses on her head. Another pair was on her face. She was chewing on a pencil.
“Callie?”
She was concentrating so hard that she didn’t appear to hear him.
“Callie, how about some iced tea?”
He’d spoiled her concentration. “Huh?”
“Iced tea. I brought you some.” He held up the bag.
“Thanks. I need a break.”
“I’m not staying,” he said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.
Oh, yes, I did!
He made his way to the big maroon leather chair he remembered his dad sitting in, smoking a cigar and barking orders. Big Dan’s booming voice hadn’t scared even the most timid of their help. His big smile and even bigger cigar were always present.
Fortunately, after three barroom brawls, Big Dan had been sentenced to probation and ordered into inpatient rehab for his alcohol problem. That had brought his drinking and gambling to a screeching halt, with a couple of relapses thrown in just to keep everyone on their toes.
Someday his dad would be back sitting in his chair just like before. Or maybe Big Dan would like to keep his apartment in town since every inch of the ranch reminded him of how he’d lost the love of his life.
After Hurricane Daphne hit, many historically accurate repairs of the ranch house and outbuildings had taken place under his brother Luke’s watch. Unfortunately, Luke had ignored some of the mail and invoices, having much more pressing things on his mind, like bailing the ranch out of foreclosure.
“Um, Reed?”
Lost in thought, he didn’t realize that Callie had her hand on the plastic bag with the container of iced tea and he wasn’t giving it up.
“Oh, sorry. I was thinking of something.”
“Big Dan’s study is bringing back memories, isn’t it?”
She could read him like good ol’ Cowabunga—Cowabunga always knew if Reed was on his game or could be bucked off.
“Callie, you take Dad’s chair. I’ll sit in the brown leather one. That’s where I always had to sit when he was lecturing or dishing out some kind of punishment.”
He sank into the chair. He remembered the smell of leather, the sun shining in through the window and making patches on the carpet, and the swirl of the dust motes.
The room still smelled faintly of cigar smoke. As a kid, he’d both hated and loved that scent. It meant one of two things: that his father was nearby and some kind of punishment was headed his way, or it meant that his father was nearby and was going to do something fun with his brothers and him.
“How are you doing, Callie?” Looking around at the cluttered room, he realized what a dumb question that was. “I hate to tell you, but this office is looking worse, with all the assorted papers and envelopes on the floor.”
She took a sip of iced tea. “It’ll get worse before it gets better. I’m sorting.”
“I see. Need help?”
