Cassidy Harte and the Comeback Kid. RaeAnne Thayne
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it was obvious Cassie had decorated it to suit her personality. It was warm and comforting, with richly textured rugs and pillows and Native American artwork covering the walls.
Cassie was a nurturer. She always had been, even as a girl just barely out of high school. She used to talk about her brothers raising her, but he had spent enough time with the family to know she took as much care of them as they did her. The Hartes looked out for each other.
The cabin reflected that nesting instinct of hers.
He smiled a little at an assortment of whimsical, ugly, carved trolls filling an entire shelf above her mother’s rocking chair. She’d been collecting them since she was a girl and he recognized several new ones since he had last seen her collection.
He narrowed his gaze, looking closer. Where were the little kissing trolls he’d given her as a gift during their first month together? He couldn’t see the piece here with the rest of the figurines.
He almost asked her what she’d done with it—why she hadn’t set it out, too—but then clamped his teeth against the question. He had no right to ask her. Even if she burned it and flushed the ashes down the toilet, nobody would have blamed her.
“This is nice,” he murmured instead.
“You must live in some grand mansion somewhere, now that you’ve hit the big time.”
He thought of his cold, impersonal apartment in Denver, with its elegant furniture he was never quite comfortable using. Her little cabin held far more appeal.
“Not really,” he answered. “It’s a place to sleep and that’s about it.”
There was an awkward pause between them, and he thought about the little trailer home they’d planned to buy in Logan while she finished school. She had decorated it in her head a hundred times, talking endlessly about curtains and furniture and wallpaper. He had even gotten into the spirit of things, something that still amazed him. Neither of them had cared how cramped the little trailer would be. They were too excited about starting their lives together.
She finally broke the silence, her expression stony and cold. “Can we skip the small talk? I’ve had a long day and need to be up at five to start breakfast over at the lodge.”
He pushed away his memories. If he wanted this to work, he had to focus on the present. “Okay. Let’s get down to business. I don’t want you to quit.”
“What you want hasn’t mattered to me for a long time, Zack.”
He ignored her clipped tone. “From all the research my people did before we made the offer, we know that the food at the Lost Creek is one of the main draws of the ranch. In just a few months you’ve developed quite a reputation for delicious, healthy meals.”
He paused, waiting for her to respond, but she remained stubbornly silent. After a moment he went on. “I want to build on that reputation. Use it as a selling point. That’s been one of my goals for the ranch from the beginning.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Zack. You didn’t really think I would stay here and work for you, did you?”
At his continued silence she gazed at him for a moment, then her jaw sagged. “You did! I can’t believe this!”
He had hoped. Now he realized how completely foolish that had been. “You used to be the kind of woman who would never back down from a good fight.”
Her mouth hardened again. “I used to be a lot of things. Ten years is a long time. I’m not the same person I was then. I’ve become much more choosy about the things I’m willing to fight for.”
“And your job isn’t one of them?”
“I won’t lie to you. I like working for the Lost Creek. Jean is a sweetheart and gives me all the freedom I could ever want to create my own menus. But I would rather take a job cleaning truck-stop toilets than stay here and work for you.”
He deserved everything she dished out and more. He knew it, but her words still stung.
“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”
She shook her head firmly and he chewed the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t wanted to play this card but she was the one folding way too early in the game. “Fine,” he said, his voice cool and detached. “I’ll let Jean know in the morning that Maverick will have to pass on the ranch.”
Her eyes widened, and that stubborn little jaw threatened to sag again. “You can’t! You’ve already signed papers. Jean already has a check.”
“Earnest money, that’s all.” He refused to let the shocked outrage in her voice deter him. “We had thirty days to reach a final decision on the sale. I’ll just tell Jean I’ve changed my mind.”
“You’re willing to walk away from the whole deal just because I refuse to work for you?”
“I’m a businessman, Cassie, as unbelievable as you seem to find that. The food you provide is an important component of the ranch’s appeal to its guests. Who knows what kind of an impact your resignation will have? I don’t want to take that risk.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Do I look serious?” He brushed an imaginary piece of lint off the sleeve of his shirt while she continued to gape at him.
“This is blackmail,” she hissed.
“Call it what you want.” He smiled as if his whole world wasn’t riding on this moment.
“You bastard.” Her voice quivered with fury.
Her reaction cut deep, but he only smirked. “You think I’ve never been called that before?”
“I’ll just bet you have.”
“I never would have made it this far without a thick skin.”
“Just like every other snake in the world, right?”
Her eyes were bright with anger, and hot color flared high on her cheekbones. He wanted to reach across the distance between them and kiss away her anger, wanted it so badly his bones ached with it. He clamped down hard on the need for some kind of contact—any kind—between them.
“Think what you want about me—”
“Oh, I do. You can bet I do.”
He went on as if she hadn’t interrupted him. “But as far as I’m concerned, you’re part of the package deal.” He paused. “However, I can understand your reluctance, given our unfortunate history.”
She snorted. “Unfortunate, my eye. The day you ran out on me was the luckiest day of my life.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I’m trying to be reasonable here, Cassie, but you’re not making it very easy.”
She remained stubbornly silent.
“As I was saying,” he said, “I understand why you might want to find a new position. So I’m willing to make a deal with you.”
“What kind of deal?” Suspicion coated her voice like a thin sheet of ice on a puddle.
“You stay the thirty days until the sale is finalized, and Maverick won’t back out. In the meantime you can hire someone as your replacement, someone who can learn your menus and build on your success.”
“And what do I get in return, besides the oh-so-appealing pleasure of your company?”
The Boy Scouts probably would have laughed themselves silly if he’d ever tried to join up, but he certainly believed heartily in their motto about being prepared.
Through a little casual conversation with Jean during the negotiations for the guest ranch, his lawyer had learned Cassie’s job at the ranch was always considered temporary between the two women, that she was saving for a down payment on the diner in town.
Why